


Monster Lead Me Home.

by keepingeyesclosed



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, i made a huge mistake
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-05-11 09:30:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 34
Words: 64,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5622205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keepingeyesclosed/pseuds/keepingeyesclosed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You prefer to steer clear of people. Not anyone in particular, just people. Keep few close, and all else far.</p><p>Don't make eye contact. If you do accidentally catch eyes with someone, glare and they'll look away. This usually works, right?</p><p>Wrong.</p><p>A very frustrating skeleton won't leave you alone, no matter how much pushing away or glaring you do.</p><p>// Post- Pacifist Ending // Reader is Female // Reader is not Frisk // Sans is kinda an asshole // PTSD + Recovery // Fluff and Possible Smut // Tsundere Reader // Slight Yandere Sans // Frisk is an adorable little muffin //</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rule #1 - Don't Let Them Get The Upper Hand.

"How can you be so cold?"

Your eyes flit from your incredibly fascinating Japanese textbook (Yes, that was sarcasm), and you are eye to eye with a tall, lanky, child-like man. He would look older if he didn't slouch with his hands in his pockets... and if he wasn't pouting. You vaguely wonder what you said that made him so mopey.

"The temperature may have something to do with it. It's freezing outside." you drawl.

"Smartass." he steps closer to you.

"Go away Brandon. You're not my friend." you state bluntly, looking back to the book.

"D'awwww, ___________!" Brandon flings himself around your neck, "Why would you say something so hurtful? To your own brother as well!"

"What are you, a child?!" you struggle and his grip around your shoulders tighten.

"Ge-geroff!" you groan as you try and wiggle free from Brandon's grip, but he holds on to you like a vice.

"___________, you said we would go out for burgers after you got out from class. You can't just turn around and decide to go to library study group!" Brandon whines.

"Brandon, I'm warning you--"

You shift your older brother from your shoulder. You opened your mouth to tell him off, the typical "Can't you see I'm busy?" speech. But when you saw his hurt expression, your heart melted a little. His floppy, dark hair wasn't helping either, he honestly looked like a sad puppy. You suppose you could skip study group, just for him. Damn... You honestly would do anything for him if he kept looking at you like that. Slamming your book shut, you lazily get up from the empty table.

"Fine. Let's get food. But only because I'm starving." You say flatly.

"Hahah, sure you are." Brandon grinned like a maniac, he knew you too well to take anything you say seriously. 

Brandon ran towards the door of the library, and you pack up your bag. Japanese was interesting at first, but as time went on it steadily got more boring and difficult to understand. Same with anything education-related really. Art and music were the only things in school that remotely interest you... Speaking of which, what's the name of the artist you learned about today? Your mind wanders...

"Hey dork!" Brandon peeks his head from the door. "Get your slow-ass ass outta here!"

"Yeah, yeah." you laugh lightly. You can't help but laugh at Brandon, his energy and genuine child-like joy is something else. You run out with door and meet him up at his car. Getting in the passenger seat, you spot aluminum wrappers and french fry bags. 

"Why the hell are we getting lunch-" you wrinkle your nose in disgust and pick up one of the wrappers, "-if you've already eaten?"

"You seemed down this morning." Brandon says simply as he hops into the driver seat.

"No I didn't." you immediately deny.

"Uh-huh." he shrugs.

"I'm fine."

"Mhm, whatever you say." He hums in a sing-song voice. "I'm getting you some food."

"What am I going to do with you..." you groan.

"Eating sounds nice."

"Now who's the smartass?"

Brandon smiles cheekily and his eyes light up, "I've been excited about this new burger joint next to campus, if you're up for something new."

You shrug. "Sure, why not change things up a bit. Where we headed?"

He plugs in your iPod into the stereo and says, "Grillby's."

***

"Eyyyy, there it is! Grillby's!" Brandon gasps pulling up to the restaurant. 

You both step out of the car, breathless from singing/screaming the words to "Fuck You" by Lily Allen, among many other loud, satisfying songs. You felt warm and bubbly inside. Thank god you decided to leave that god-forsaken library, this was so much better than slaving away over books. Rosy-cheeked and laughing, you both walk through the door-

"Holy shitake mushrooms."

Monsters. Monsters everywhere. Your smile slips from your face, and your usual grimace replaces it. You dislike monsters. And humans. You don't discriminate, you have the same opinion for all kinds of people. Sometimes you could deal with them, but right now you weren't in the mood for being with people. Seeing you looking so unamused, Brandon puts his hand on your head.

"We're here for food and a good time." he says while ruffling your hair, "You don't have to talk to anyone."

You nod, and he leads you towards the bar. Heads turn, and you knew you were being stared at. You don't usually mind stares, but the prolonged looks of curiosity was irritating. It took all your willpower not to turn around and say, "Take a picture, it lasts longer. Maybe you'd like an autograph?".

"They're just not used to seeing humans, ___________. Give 'em a break."

You jerk your head up, unable to hide your surprise.

"Are you reading my mind?"

"It's written all over your face, girly." he laughs.

He pulls out a bar stool for you. Grumbling a thank you, you carefully sit down, glancing around you. It's a pretty comforting place, you think. A little dim, but it's warm and filled with the familiar smell of grease and condiments. There's an old jukebox in the corner, a pool table, and quite a selection of alcohol. You could get used to this place. If the monsters would stop gawking at you, you'd feel right at home. You look over at Brandon, curious if he was feeling any mild discomfort. He wasn't. On the contrary, he was absolutely elated by everything that was around him. You crack a small smile as he raves about the different kinds of drinks on the menu, and the fact that there were only two things to eat on it: Burgers and fries. Another incredible thing that even shocked you was that the bartender is literally-

"WHOA. Fire!" Brandon hoots happily.

The name "Grillby" is etched onto a piece of metal that was pinned to his uniform. He had rectangular glasses that fit squarely in the middle of his face. This was very impressive, considering he didn't have a face to begin with.

Brandon hums Uptown Funk as you take your order up with Grillby. Before Grillby turns to leave, Brandon pipes up and says,

"Hey Grillby, has anyone ever told you..." he leans over the bar, "that you are one flaming hot dude?"

Oh my god. You felt your brain turn itself into a hand and facepalm you from the inside. Luckily, Grillby found it humorous. Blushing a shade of blue flame, he chuckles.

"Actually, I have." he says, his eyes crinkling with delight, "Hey Sans."

Shocked, you sit straight up. Someone was right next to you, chuckling.

"heya grillz."

You swivel around, you come face to face with a skeleton. A living, breathing, skeleton. He was short-ish, wore an oversized blue hoodie with frisbee shorts and pink bed slippers. And the fact that he just Assassins Creeped right next to you gave you chills. After you recover from your minor heart attack, you turn back around on your chair. You're here to eat and have a good time with your brother, not to speak with a stranger.

"hey girly."

What... Did he just call you? There is no way he said that. It's one thing that your brother calls you girly, but when a stranger does it... It's just too friendly. How could he just be so familiar towards you? You're filled with irritation.

"you seem to be thinking hard... what's on your mind?" Sans says nonchalantly.

You look over to Brandon for help, but he's having what seems to be a deep conversation about waffle burgers with Grillby. Exasperated, you do your best to ignore Sans.

"come on now, sweetheart," seeing you tense, he chuckles.

"don't you know how to greet a new pal? turn around and shake my hand."

You don't turn around. Don't give him a reaction, that's what people like him want. He takes a seat next to you, and your eyes flicker towards him. He has his skull propped up on one of his bony hands that're resting on the counter. You lift your head assertively and glare at him.

"ooh, a little hostile, aren't we?" Sans grins wider, his eyes lazily trained on you. 

He leans back, assessing you. He doesn't blink, at all. You keep glaring, hoping to god he'll look away, but he doesn't. After what seems like an eternity, you drop your gaze. You've never... Given up like that. You feel angry, at him and yourself. You glance up, and see that he's still looking at you. And then-

He winks.

You stand up from the bar suddenly. Startled, Brandon jumps.

"W-whoa sis, don't scare me like that." he stutters.

"what's got you so worked up?" Sans smiles devilishly.

Anger boiled inside of you. With one hand you grabbed him by his stupid blue sweatshirt and pulled him towards you, so you're face to face. You were so close, if he had a nose it'd be touching yours. This distance in any other circumstance would make you beyond uncomfortable, but seeing his face made you so angry you didn't care. You hate how he acts so nonchalant. You hate how he smiles and mocks you. You didn't even know him. He made you angrier than anyone else you have ever met, and that was saying something.

"now now," he drawls, "i think it's a little too soon for you to be jumping my bones-"

Your fist tightens.

**"Don't talk to me as if you know me."**

You let go of him, grab your bag and stride quickly over to the exit.  
Sans sat there wide-eyed. That was a surprise. Yeah, that wasn't really the reaction he was looking for. He looks over at your utterly confused brother, who soon got a grip on what just happened.

"Wait up girl!" Brandon slams down a twenty dollar bill and runs after you.

"DON'T CALL ME GIRL! OR GIRLY! OR ANYTHING EVER AGAIN!" Sans heard you shout from outside.

He watch you and Brandon get into the car and drive off.

"...interesting."


	2. Rule #2 - Don't Expect Anything.

The car ride was silent. Well, not really. Brandon kept throwing questions at you, such as "Why were you so angry?", "Was that guy harassing you?", "Do you want to pick up some waffles?", and "Don't you think you went a bit too far?". You didn't ignore the last question.

"Of course I didn't go too far." you say deadpan, looking straight ahead. "He had it coming."

Pulling up to a stoplight, Brandon turned his attention from the road to you. His face was contorted with concern.

"You know ___________..." he says seriously, "you should try to be more..." 

"Understanding?" You interrupt, "Kind? Good-natured? Caring?"

"Not necessarily, but a little more openness to others would be cool." he smiles.

"You, know what?" you lean back, closing your eyes. "You're right. I'm done with being closed off and hostile. I'm going to turn a new leaf, and be the best kind of person I can be. Maybe I'll just go back and apologize to the poor skeleton that I was so shamelessly rude towards."

The light turns green. Brandon scowls and turns towards the road.

"The sarcasm is strong. You cannot be beaten, I see." he says mockingly.

You giggle and smile at him, the only kind of laugh Brandon can draw from you. He glances over at you with an expression that would make you think he just won the lottery.

"Your laughter is music to my ears." he sighs.

"I wasn't laughing." your mouth twitches, trying not to smile.

"Right, right."

***

"I'd prefer if you didn't scare off my customers."

Grillby leans over the counter, eyeing Sans with a look of distaste and mild amusement. Sans took a swig of ketchup, shrugging dismissively.

"eh, she was anything but scared..." he mumbles to himself. 

"sorry grillz," Sans says grinning, "but don't look so sternum, you're going to hurt my feelings."

"Sorry Sans," Grillby chuckles, "You know, I've never seen someone so genuinely angry with you."

"heh, yeah. i didn't think she'd snap." Sans says absentmindedly, "i thought she just didn't like monsters."

"Well, even if she disliked monsters, she was still a customer. Besides," Grillby remarks, "I rather like her brother. He's given me an idea for the menu."

"menu? what about the menu?" Sans asks, confused. The menu hasn't changed since they left the Underground, why should it change now?

"Waffles." Grillby says dreamily, "They're like pancakes, but have a grid pressed into the dough... Brandon suggested making burgers, using waffles as buns..."

Sans laughs. "sounds good pal. i'd like to be the first to taste the first attempt at the 'burffle'?"

"You'll have to be the second," Grillby flickers apologetically, "I said Brandon could try the first one. In fact, I offered him an internship here. I should hear a response from him in a few days, I'm very excited."

Grillby began rambling happily, talking about how it would make a statement if he had a human working at a monster-operated business, and how Brandon was the kindest lighthearted human he's met. Sans watched him talk with his hands, burning brighter the more excited he got. Sans felt warm seeing Grillby so enthusiastic, but he can't help but wonder about you. Way you completely blew him off, the glaring- he thought you were just a monster hater, someone who only sees humans as people...

_"Don't talk to me as if you know me."_

Your face plays back in his head over and over. Disgust, frustration, and confusion was clearly written over your face when you grabbed him, and he wanted to know why. He felt... strange. He can figure out anyone within a few minutes of conversation, so why couldn't he figure out you? Why did a tiny human girl, who has only spoken a single sentence of aggression towards him, make him think so hard?

"what's her name?" Sans asks finally.

Grillby pauses, confused. "The lady you pissed off? I do believe her name is ___________. Didn't you call her girly?" he doubles over laughing. "Is that why she was so angry?"

"dunno." Sans grins sheepishly, "i think she was just having a bad time."

"...Not like you were the one giving her a bad time or anything." Grillby winks and walks off to tend to another customer.

"not likely."

The entrance door jingles, and Brandon walks through the door, whistling. Sans watches Grillby perk up and walk to Brandon. While they're chatting happily, Sans' eyes dart to the car outside the window. You were there, sitting in the passenger seat, and you were... Dancing? You were yelling into an iPod as if it were a microphone,  
nodding your head violently to a very rapidly paced song. He strains his ears and hears--

_\--full body armor bitch, you just need a helmet 'cause if you think you special-_

Is she listening to... Eminem?

"you gotta be kidding me." Sans throws his head back laughing, "i hope that wasn't our last encounter, girly."


	3. Rule #3 - Do Not Tolerate Drunks.

A week later, Sans got off of work at the NiceCream stand (which he doesn't really work at, he kinda just stands around and hopes no one will buy anything) and heads over to Grillby’s for a drink. As he walks through the bitter cold, he lets his mind wander. Thoughts come and go, varying from wondering what art supplies Papyrus would put into tonight's spaghetti to quantum physics. And then, your face flashes through his mind. He sighs and buries his face into the neck of his hoodie.

_heh. you just won't leave me alone, will you?_

Approaching Grillby’s, Sans drives you out of his head. He has other things to think about. He walks through the door, and familiar jingle of the doorbell ringing woke him from his thoughts. He looks around. He saw regulars, visitors… The usual assortment of customers. Then he saw Brandon behind the bar counter. He starts walking over, then he sees you at the end of the bar, saying something to your brother. Sans silences his footsteps, and heads straight for you. He brainstorms something snarky to say to you, but then he stops dead in his tracks.

You were-

“-smiling” he utters in surprise.

_wow. that's a nice smile._

It was a soft smile, just a slight upwardness of your lips, and your eyes twinkled as you were talking. Sans felt warmth rise to his cheekbones. Standing there for a bit, he watches you. He watches your expressions change. He sees Brandon say something, and you frown, eyebrows furrowing. This was a different frown, it was more of a pout. Brandon says something again, and your mouth twitches. Sans laughs quietly. You're trying so hard not to smile.

_what a dork._

It seems like you were stuck in your own little world, and the only other person in it was Brandon. In fact, you were so absorbed in that world, that it didn't register that Sans was there until he was leaning over your shoulder.

“whoa. you have teeth? i don't think i’ve seen you smile before.” Sans says, devilish grin plastered on his face.

“I wasn't smiling.” You say, all traces of a smile gone and replaced with your usual unamused expression.

“huh, must’ve been seeing things.”

He takes a seat next directly next to you. Seeing this, you quickly whip out your iPod and plug in. You don't feel like engaging in unnecessary conflict.

“hey ___________. knock knock.”

Surprised, you look up.

“How do you know my name?” You demanded.

“no, you say ‘who's there.”

…

“if you can't answer, i'll answer for yo-”

“Who's there.” You say shortly, looking down to your iPod. Sans smiles smugly.

“water.”

“Water who.”

“water you listening to?” Sans hums over your shoulder, making you jump. Reflexively you swat your hand at him, and he sidesteps easily.

“no need to hit on me girly,” he chuckles, “i know you like me.”

“Don't flatter yourself.” You grumble. Sans disregards your comeback.

“i took you for a hip-hop sort of person… ya know, like eminem.” He looks over your shoulder again, “didn't think you’d be a taylor swift fan.”

Flushing, you cover your iPod screen and glare at him.

“Is there any particular reason you're talking to me?” you glower at him.

“i like talking to my friends.”

“I don't recall being friends with you.” You state dryly.

“i make a point to be friendly. maybe you should try it.”

“Well, I'm not shallow enough to please everyone I meet.”

And so it went. Back and forth, back and forth, the occasional insult from you, the constant teasing from Sans. He smiled a little wider when you flushed in frustration. The faces you would make kept him going. 

Eventually, he noticed you seem a little distracted. Sometimes you would cast your glare from him to something behind you. He leans towards you.

“water you looking at?”

“Go away.”

“heh, come on girl-”

Sans stops mid-sentence when he sees what you were looking at. There are other humans here, and that wouldn't be a problem if they didn't look like they've visit a few bars before arriving. Sans looks over to you. You radiate suspicion and distrust. Well, more than usual. There were two of them, a man and a woman. The woman doesn't seem too friendly, the man has a look of indifference to him... and both were drunk. They stumble over towards the bar and sit down a few seats away from you. Brandon goes over to them to take their orders.

“Uhm, yes. I'll have a vodka, and some gin for him.” She slurs, gesturing to the man you suppose is her boyfriend. Brandon puts on his award-winning apologetic smile.

“I'm sorry, but we don't serve alcohol to intoxicated customers. May I recommend-”

“Wh-what?" She slams her hand on the counter, “why won't you serve us?”

“Ma’am, we are required by law-”

“As expected of a monster-infested business, this is bullshit!”

“Please calm down, we can-”

“Psht. No! Listen here shithead-”

“No, you listen here.”

Sans opened his mouth to say something, but to his surprise you already did. You stood up and face the woman.

“‘scuse me?!” she sputters.

“You're excused.” you say calmly, and Sans slams his head onto the counter to keep himself from laughing. Unfazed, you keep staring at the drunken woman.

“You little bitch…” the woman seethes.

“I am a bitch, I'm fully aware of that.” You say, taking a step towards her, “but you don't seem to know what you are.”

“Whu-”

“You're a sad, wasted, rude, pathetic asshole. Don’t insult someone who is just doing his job.”

You braced yourself, waiting for the man next to her stand and punch you, yell at you, to do anything. But he didn't care. He sat there absentmindedly fiddling with the ketchup bottle, completely oblivious to the situation unfolding in front of him. As for the woman…

“You’ve got some nerve, lil lady!!” She spits. This woman is very, very drunk. Before you could say anything to retaliate, a bony hand rests on her shoulder.

“would you please leave? you’re bothering the other customers.” Sans says sweetly. It was true. Many heads were turned, some worried and others angry.

The woman swats away Sans. He takes a step back, hands up slightly. She gets up from the bar and says something along the lines of, “the police will hear about this”. Grabbing her uninterested boyfriend by his arm, they both stumble from the bar to the door. You resist the urge to yell “Fuck you!” as they walked out. You settled for saying “Hope your day is as lovely as you!” just as they leave. You stand there for a bit, then turn to see Brandon looking at you with disapproval.

“What.”

“I don't like how you handled that ___________.”

“Yeah, well I didn't like her.” you shrug.

“___________…”

“I'm leaving now. You can lecture me later if you want.” You turn around and start walking away.

“What on earth am I going to do with you?!” Brandon calls after you.

“How abouuuuut… nothing!” you wave your hand a bit as you walk out the door.

"Dammit..." Brandon grumbles.

Meanwhile, Sans laughs. He laughs harder than he's laughed in a while. Brandon looks at him sheepishly.

"She's kinda a handful, but she's actually a sweetheart when she wants to be." He mumbles apologetically, "she's also a little mouthy..."

"hahahhhh... a little?" Sans calms down, but is still giddy from the whole ordeal. What's with that girl? He's never seen anything like her.

_now is that a good thing, or a bad thing?_


	4. Rule #4 - Fish Are Friends, Not Food.

You walk out of Grillby's and sigh. Despite your calm exterior, you were still a little shaken from the whole “angry drunks” ordeal. You knew all too well how unpredictable they could be, you were just thankful one of them didn't pull a weapon on you. Shaking your head, you pull your coat tighter around you. You dig around your pockets…

_Where are those damn headphones?_

Your thoughts were racing a thousand miles per hour, you want to drown them out. The drunks, school, Sans… Especially Sans. His smug grin, lazy eyes, the look of satisfaction when he mocks you-

_Who does that little bugger think he is?_

Frustration builds up. Since when do you let anyone get to you? Why do you even bother thinking about him, let alone arguing with him? Was it because he’s intelligent?

_No, he’s not intelligent. He's a fool._

But you never try to prove anything to a fool. You know it's pointless.

_”no need to hit on me girly, i know you like me.”_

_”water you listening to?”_

_”hey girly.”_

His voice was playing back in your head like a track stuck on repeat. You groan and rub your forehead.

“Since when… Did I let YOU INTO MY HEAD?!” You shout to the sky.

Angry, you kick over a garbage can next to the sidewalk, knocking it over and spilling some of the contents. You stomp off angrily, Sans’ stupid grin flashing through your head. 

Then you pause for a second, and look back to the mess on the sidewalk. Doing a double take, you do a quick walk of shame back over to the garbage. Setting the can upright, you start cleaning up the trash scattered around it. You were focused on cleaning the mess as quickly as possible, you didn't hear footsteps behind you.

“HUMAN.”

You jump up, dropping a soggy egg carton in surprise. Turning around, you see a rather tall skeleton wearing some kind of… Cape.

“MY APOLOGIES HUMAN, I DID NOT MEAN TO STARTLE YOU” the loud, tall skeleton exclaimed, “ALTHOUGH, YOU MUST ADMIT MY SNEAKING POWER IS… OVER 9000!!"

He strikes a dramatic pose, and you honestly did not know what to say. But that’s okay, because he didn't wait for you to answer.

“I CAN'T HELP BUT NOTICE THAT YOU ARE VALIANTLY CLEANING UP THE SPILLED TRASH. I WISH TO PARTICIPATE IN THIS SERVICE!!”

…How old is this guy? He seems like a younger, louder version of Brandon.

“I mean… if you want to, that's fine by me.” You said stupidly.

His face lights up. You'd think you just offered him a thousand dollars, not to clean up garbage.

“WOWIE!! YOU'LL LET ME BE GENEROUS WITH YOU???” he puts his hands to his face, “YOU ARE A TRULY KIND HUMAN!!”

Wow. This guy is like a toddler… So innocent and so eager. And his kindness wasn't some charade. If he indeed faking it, you’d be able to tell.

He kneels next to you and helps clean up what's left of the trash with you. He hums as he works, bobbing his head slightly to the little tune he was singing. Once you're both done, he jumps up quickly, startling you again.

_So much ENERGY._

He pulls out a calender from somewhere(??) and checks off a box. He sees you watching him curiously and he shoves the calendar in front of your nose.

“CURIOUS?? I'LL SHOW YOU WHAT I'M DOING!!” he proclaims proudly, “I'M DOING A GOOD DEED EVERY SINGLE DAY UNTIL-”

He pauses, eyes narrowing.

“I'M NOT SURE WHEN. HAVEN’T THOUGHT THAT FAR YET.” He says finally.

He is totally a Brandon.

“ANYWHOSIES, MY NAME IS PAPYRUS.” his hand shoots directly in front of him, “WHAT IS YOUR NAME HUMAN??”

You hesitate. Should you just trust him?

“I'm ___________.” You say, taking his hand carefully. He smiles wider as you did so, and you felt relaxed.

“SO ___________, I HAD THIS GRAND IDEA.” Papyrus grins, shaking your hand vigorously, “WE BOTH ENJOY CLEANING UP GARBAGE, CORRECT??”

“Uh-”

“CORRECT!!” He says beaming at you, “SO OF COURSE, IT IS ONLY NATURAL THAT WE BECOME FRIENDS!!”

“Well-”

“HUMAN FRIEND ACQUIRED!!!!” Papyrus hoots, still shaking your hand. What on earth…?

“NOW THAT YOU’VE BEGUN YOUR FRIENDSHIP WITH THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WE SHALL NOW COMMENCE THE RITUAL.” He says solemnly.

“Ritual?”

By this point, you doubt he could surprise you.

“OF COURSE!! IT'S A GREAT RITUAL THAT FRIENDS DO. IT’S CALLED--” he pauses dramatically, “HANGING OUT!! I DO IT WITH MY FRIENDS ALL THE TIME.”

“Really now?” You say sarcastically. He didn't seem to pick up on your sass.

“OHMIGOD. WE. SHOULD. ALL. HANG. OUT.” He says excitedly, whipping out his phone from god knows where, “I'M TEXTING UNDYNE AND ALPHYS RIGHT NOW.”

“Wait, Papyrus-”

“NO NEED TO THANK ME--”

“PAPYRUS.”

Your sudden tone shocked him. He stood there dumbfounded, looking a little hurt. And for an unknown reason, you felt like absolute shit.

“Uhm… I was just wondering” you mumble, “what your friends are like…?”

He brightens a little at your interest.

“ALPHYS IS CRAZY SMART, SHE WAS THE MAIN TECHNICIAN FOR THE UNDERGROUND. AND UNDYNE, SHE’S AMAZING, AND REALLY REALLY STRONG. I THINK YOU’D LIKE HER!!” he raves, “AND THEN THERE’S METTATON--”

He stops short. He looks very orange in the face.

_What… Is he blushing?_

“I suppose this Mettaton guy is pretty cool too.” You say nonchalantly. You know what's up.

“Yeah, he is.” Papyrus squeaks. But it only takes him a second to regain his composure and yell again. “I WANT TO TELL YOU ALL ABOUT EVERYONE, HUMAN.”

Now he's calling you human again.

“Listen Papyrus, it was really sweet of you to… Ya know, help with the garbage,” you say, gesturing to the trash can, “But I'm not interested in being friends.”

Papyrus looked like you just told him his puppy died. Absolutely devastated.

“WHY??” Papyrus says deflatedly.

“What I meant is,” you say quickly, “it's weird to be friends with people. Wait no--”

You shake your head. How does this work? Papyrus eagerly waits for you to get your shit together.

“I mean, it's weird to befriend a stranger, don't you think?” You say finally. That sounds about right, right? You're shutting him down gently.

“BUT YOU ARE NO STRANGER, ___________.” Papyrus says happily, “WE BOTH LIKE GARBAGE!!”

“Huh?”

Papyrus’ phone goes off. He quickly checks it, then grins widely at you.

“COME HANG OUT WITH US ___________, AND THEN DECIDE IF WE ARE WORTHY TO BE FRIENDS.”

“I dunno…”

“TRUST ME.”

You look up at him. You try so hard… but you can't not trust him. He's too sincere for his own good.

“Okay.”

***

You follow Papyrus through the door of Zoka, your favorite local coffee shop. The barista on duty, Luke, looks at Papyrus strangely and then glances at you. You nod at him and he goes back work. You don't know Luke, but you know of him. He’s in your Japanese class, and he seems okay. He knows you as a regular, that one girl who always orders a decaf Latte. You respect him in a way, he comes to class, does his work and leaves. Same as his job.

“AYE! PAPYRUS!”

Whoa. A rather large fish woman stood up and waved at you guys. She wasn't large in a overweight way, she was large in a ripped sort of way. Kinda intimidating. Papyrus skips over and you walk behind him. The ripped lady greets Papyrus, then she turns to you.

“So,” she folds her arms, “is this the punk you were texting about?”

Aggression detected, defense activated.

“U-Undyne, maybe y-you shouldn't call someone p-p-punk when you first meet t-them.”

You barely even noticed the smallish yellow monster sitting on the couch. A little understandable, you were a little distracted by the rippling biceps and thighs. She definitely didn't skip leg day.

“Right, right.” She shakes her head, “So if I don't call you punk, what should I call you?”

“Don’t really mind what you call me,” you shrug, “birth certificate-wise I'm ___________.”

“I like your attitude, ___________.” Undyne grins (a little scarily), “My name is Undyne, and this is Alphys.” She gestures to the quiet little monster, who gives you a shy wave.

“NOW” Papyrus says dramatically, “LET THE HANGOUT BEGIN!!!”

***

“-and that's how Frisk turned Mettaton turned into a sexy human killing machine!” Undyne cackles.

“B-BUT HE DOESN’T KILL HUMANS ANYMORE!!” Papyrus adds quickly.

“Oh my god, that's one of the most amazing stories… I've ever heard!” you gasped, “I haven't laughed this hard since my brother got two greenbeans stuck up his nose!”

“How on earth did he do that?” Alphys laughed.

“He tried to the greenbean out with another greenbean.” 

“HA! Your brother sounds like a crackup.” Undyne slaps her thighs.

“He's pretty great. Once he-” you look outside, and saw that it was dark. It’s been hours since you’ve “commenced the hangout” as Papyrus liked to say. You jump up.

“Holy shoes, I have to go! Brandon must be worried.” You gather your things.

“Did you just say… Holy shoes?” Undyne says, amused.

“He doesn't like me swearing, so I say something different to replace it,” you say sheepishly, “now it's a habit.”

Undyne laughed and said something about your brother, but you couldn't hear. You were zoning out, thinking. You watched them talk, smile, and light up when they hear each others stories.

_These people are real._

You were willing to take the chance. You wanted to try again with these people, who were so genuine, so different from the rest of the crowd.

_But what if you're wrong about them?_

“Well too fucking bad.” You think. 

_You’ll only be hurt. You can’t risk being hurt again. Stay away. Don't trust them. Protect yourself._

“I'll stay a safe distance. Just far enough so if that does happen.” You negotiate with yourself, “I won't get very hurt.”

“Yo, ___________.” Undyne cocks her head. “You okay?”

“Oh, yeah.” You nod, spacing back to reality, “Just lost in thought.”

“Don't space too far, bud.” She smiles, “I was just saying we should all exchange phone numbers and plan to hang out again. You're a really cool human, ___________.”

Everyone nods in unison.

_It's worth it._

“TOLD YOU GUYS THIS HUMAN IS DIFFERENT!!” Papyrus says proudly, “I'M SO HAPPY WE BOTH LIKE CLEANING GARBAGE, FOR I WOULDN’T HAVE MET YOU OTHERWISE!!”

“I thought she was a stiff noodle when I first met her, Papyrus.” Undyne says lethargically.

_They're worth it._

“Come on ___________, what're your digits?”

_What could go wrong?_

Smiling, you hand Undyne your phone.


	5. Rule #5 - Don't Expect an Answer.

“you seem happy today.”

Your eyes flit up from your sketchbook, eyeing Sans with defiance. He leans on the counter, his hand propping up his head. You need Brandon go drive you somewhere, and decided to come a little early to wait his shift to be over. Now you realize this was a grave mistake. Does this skeleton hang out anywhere else?

“I look happy? Really?” you say sarcastically.

“you tend to smile while you’re drawing, ya know?” Sans lifts an eye socket. 

“I'm just imagining you naked in front of the whole restaurant. “ you say looking down to your drawing.

“heh, i didn't know you're into that kind of stuff.” He grins a little wider seeing your ears turn red, “you’re kinda a freak.”

You groan and hit your head on sketchbook.

“Why me? Why?” You mumble.

“d’awww ___________,” Sans says moving closer to you, “it’s cuz you’re special.” he purrs.

You swipe at him and he sidesteps, chuckling.

“Don't mess with me.” You say giving him your most intimidating look, “I could destroy you, don’t test me.”

Sans eyes lazily look you over, then he cocks his head.

“is that a threat or a promise?” He says smirking.

You throw a menu at him, and Grillby (who was on the other side of the bar), gave you a look of dismay. You shrug sheepishly at him.

“Sorry.” You mutter.

You turn around, and Sans had the biggest shit-eating grin on his face. You really wanted to smack him.

“Can you not?” you hiss.

“not what?” He asks innocently.

“Do that thing you always do!” you wave your hands around, trying to find the right words.

“you're going to have to be more specific.” he says in a singsong voice.

“You twist my words! And tease me!” You say exasperatedly.

“well, you kinda set yourself up for those things, girly.” he takes a seat next to you, “i just take the invitation.”

You decided to ignore Sans. You're not going to give him any more “invitations”. You feel him scoot closer to you, then tap your shoulder.

_Just ignore him._

You have a flashback of your mom scolding you for hitting your brother, saying “___________, if someone is bothering you, ignore them and they'll leave.

“heyyy.”

_Gee, thanks for the advice mom._

When you don't look up as he tries to get your attention, and Sans frowns. He leans back into his seat.

“hey, can you pass the ketchup?”

“What do you say?” You say, still focused in on your drawing.

“please.”

Without looking up, you grab the nearest ketchup bottle and thrust it in his face. Sans eyes your outstretched hand. Then-

“What’re y-- EEHG!” You yelp.

Bewildered, you jump to your feet and stumble back from Sans. Your hand feels wet. Did he…

“Did you just lick me?!” You didn’t question HOW he licked you, you were too pissed at the moment to care. You had to keep yourself from screaming at him, and people were staring, eyebrows raised. Sans didn't seem to give a rats ass that he was disrupting everyone like this.

“pay attention to me.” He frowns, “i’m talking to you.”

That’s it.

“Why do you care for my attention?! Stop fucking harassing me!” You hiss, “Do you hate me this much? What on earth did I do?!”

“i don't hate you.” Sans says seriously. 

Finally, he was taking you seriously. But the fact that he was being all mysterious and aloof about the reason of his endless torment made you angrier.

“Why else would you make fun of me?”

Sans rolls his eyes.

“you can’t be this oblivious.”

That's FUCKING it. You're done.

Not bothering to pack up, you grab your things and stomp off, leaving Sans at the bar. Before you’re out the door, you turn your head.

“Grillby! Will you do me a solid and tell Brandon I'll be waiting at our rendezvous point? Thanks!”

“rendezvous?” Sans chuckles. What's up with that? Grillby stares at Sans with distaste. Sans simply smiles at him.

“You've been throwing looks at a lot of people today.” Sans laughs.

“If you want to be friends with ___________, you need to give her a break, Sans.” Grillby said solemnly.

“nah. can’t do that.” Sans says simply, picking up a ketchup bottle.

“Why not?” Grillby asks, puzzled, “I know you’re not the type to do something for no reason.”

“just… trust me grillz. i have a reason, and i know what i’m doing. maybe.”

“You don't sound so sure.”

“i can never be sure with that person.” Sans laughs.

“Then what makes you so confident that she won't end up hating you? If she doesn't already hate you, that is.”

“because,” Sans takes a swig of ketchup, “we have similar souls.”

Grillby pauses, his eyes narrowing with concern. 

“Similar sou-” 

Brandon walks out of the kitchen. Perfect timing.

“I'm out Grillz, yee you later!” He waves as he walks out, “See you Sans!”

Sans waves lazily and went back to drinking his ketchup.


	6. Rule #6 - Don't Show Your Brother Your Fangirl Side.

The drive home seemed longer than usual, even though you had your headphones blasting some of the loudest, angriest music you had. Perfect for your mood. You curl up your legs onto your seat, prop your head on the armrest and stare out the window. Funny, in this relaxed position, someone would think you're listening to some deep, melodious music that speaks to the soul. They wouldn't dream that you're listening to 'IDFWU' by Big Sean. Hah.

You glance at Brandon, who was bobbing his head and lip-syncing to his own music he was playing on the car speakers. He didn't seem to mind that you were distant, so you lean back and continue looking out the window. You watch trees and buildings pass, letting the music eat away your anger. After a few more songs you start to feel a little more calm, so you switch from hip-hop to some more downtempo songs. After a few XYLØ songs, you unplug and sigh.

"Feeling better?" Brandon says, still nodding his head to Heart Out by The 1975.

"Yeah." You say dismissively, "On another note, why are you listening to The 1975? I thought you didn't like them."

"You left your CD in the car this morning. Uh... I was a little curious..." he says slowly, trying to to grin, "...and now I'm full-fledged 1975 trash."

"YES!!" You shriek in happiness, and Brandon gives you a look of satisfaction.

"That's cool, I guess." You recovered not-so-gracefully.

"Mhm. You guess." Brandon winks.

"Shut up."

...

...

"Can we play Love Me?" you say sheepishly.

"I thought you'd never ask."

***

"Similar souls?"

Sans nods. It was past closing time, and Grillby insisted that Sans stay behind and explain what he meant by her having a soul that is similar to his. Of course Grillby would want to know, it's a little concerning considering Sans' past.

"i caught a glimpse of her soul the day she grabbed me. she pulled me so close to her, it was kind hard not to see it." Sans shrugs.

"Is she okay?" Grillby asks, wringing his hands. He was really worried for her.

_jeez, i'm not that messed up._

"she's dealing with her problems her own way. it seems to work."

"But-"

"sh sh shhh, don't worry grillz," Sans grins putting a finger to Grillby's face, "tibia honest she's doing better than me. i think that's saying something, don't you?"

Grillby grabbed Sans' hand and lowered it from his face. He didn't seem too pleased with the dismissal of his concern. Sans begins to feel a little nervous, he doesn't want to go into the nitty gritty details of what he saw in her.

"Why are you involving yourself with her?" Grillby asks quietly.

Sans stares at Grillby, a little taken aback by the question. _Why did he involve himself with her so much?_

"she's interesting."

"Sans, you know what I mean."

"she disconnects herself. she's emotionless. she dislikes monsters. she dislikes humans." Sans says, closing his eyes thoughtfully.

"but when she's pushed, she connects again. she stands up for herself, and others. heh, she gets really angry," He chuckles, "i like the reactions i get from her. she can be so spontaneous, like a firework. never know when she'll explode." he finishes.

"Nice obvservation, but you still aren't answering my question, buddy."

Sans pauses. 

_what should i tell grillby? that i want to help her? no, that makes her sound like a charity case._

He can imagines your face burning red with fury if you found out someone was pitying you.

_heh. maybe i should try that._

"What are you going to do?"

_i'm going to connect with her. i want to show her something better. i want to make her laugh, i want to make her feel something._

"Sans?"

"i dunno."


	7. Rule #7 - Don't Forget to Look At Your Phone.

When you finally arrive at your apartment complex with Brandon, you jump out of the car and close the door. You both were breathless and rosy-cheeked from all the singing, and the cold outside wasn't really helping either. You look over to Brandon, who was gathering some grocery bags from the backseat, still humming ‘Love Me.’

“You really are 1975 trash.” you smile broadly.

“I should've been a while ago, if I knew that it would make you grin like that.”

“Psh. Whatever.” You scoff, “Need any help with the bags?”

“Nah, I got it. You go on ahead.”

You nod then walk up to the porch steps of the building. Walking into the little rinky-dink apartment lobby, you check your mailbox at the front desk. Mostly junk… 

_No, I'm not interested in a Hello Kitty segway, thank you very much._

Sorting through it more, you come across a letter from your parents. Lovely.

They usually send a few letters a year, to check up on you guys. It was most school related. They were obsessed with your GPA and you, as they say, “Living up to the family name.” Brandon had none of that shit. He cut himself off from them, and never told you the exact reason why. He always had some corny excuse, like, “Mom’s cooking was absolutely awful, I couldn't stand it anymore.” or “Dad is a ping-pong maniac. If I had to stand another one of his text messages about some Ping Pong professional I swear...”

After a while you left the topic alone. Brandon has his reasons, and he’ll tell you them when he's ready. As for you, you don't dislike your parents. They support you financially, and let you live in their apartments for no charge. You can't really have an opinion about your parents that you've only seen four times in your life.

Tossing away the junk mail (Well, except maybe the discount packet on art supplies) and grabbing your parents letter, you shuffle up the stairs to your apartment. You and Brandon live on the very top, apartments right next to each other. There's an elevator, but you don't like to use it because it’s slow and smells like mushrooms. Besides, the stairs give you the most exercise you get in a day.

Huffing, you reach the top of the staircase. What a workout. You get to your room and shut the door behind you.

_Home sweet home._

That wasn't sarcasm, your apartment was pretty sweet. The door opens to your livingroom that has a cute little sofa with some chairs around the coffee table, facing the TV. To your left there's a bar. On the other side of bar, the narrow kitchen resides, with anything a simple kitchen might have. Down the hall is your bathroom and two bedrooms. One for you, another for a guest. Brandon has used that room before, back when you still had nightmares.

_Shut up ___________. Think positive._

Walking to the livingroom, you flop on the couch. You lay there for a while, listening to the silence. Weird.

_Can you listen to silence? Or am I just hearing nothing? No ___________, you need to stop thinking about that before you start to question your place in the universe._

You absentmindedly fiddle with a pillow to distract yourself. You you look around the room… Its so bare, except for the paintings and photos on the wall. Maybe you should--

**WHAM.**

The door swings open, you jump straight up and fall off the couch. Brandon was standing there, his eyes lit up, holding a rather large grocery bag.

“What the fork Brandon!?” You shout, pulling yourself up.

“I bought decorations.”

You pause.

“...and a Christmas tree. It’s outside the door.” he says, beaming at you.

“Lemme see.” You rush over, and he hands you the bag. Ornaments, tinsel, popcorn…

“You bought popcorn?!” you smile, looking up at him.

“Hell to the yeah I did!!” He looks absolutely elated. Stringing popcorn and wrapping it around the Christmas tree was a tradition of theirs. You two both stand there for a second, grinning like maniacs.

“Well, why are we standing around? Let's decorate!” Brandon hoots.

You shout in agreement, and rush out the door to get the tree.

God you love Christmas.

***

You and Brandon had a blast the past few hours. You talked and sang along to Christmas music as the room slowly came to life with festive decorations. After you both finished, you take a step back and admire your handiwork.

“It's beautiful.” Brandon whispered.

“It's ‘aight.” You shrug.

“You love it.” He goes over to you and give you a noogie.

“Hah, you're right, I kinda do.” You admit sheepishly.

You break away from his hold and wander to the kitchen.

“Eggnog?”

“Bring forth the ‘nog.” Brandon confirms.

Your brother is such a dork. You bring forth the nog, hand him a cup then sit on the couch.

“So.” Brandon starts, taking a sip.

“So?” You ask, doing the same.

“Sans.”

You grimace and look away.

“Oops, bad subject, bad subject!” He says quickly.

…

…

“If I didn't know any better, I think he likes you.” Brandon continues.

“Bad subject, Brandon.”

“Right, right. How about that other friend of yours--”

“Sans isn’t my friend.”

“Never said he was.” Brandon grins.

“You implied that he is a friend of mine.”

“Is he?”

“NO.”

“Heh, got it. But really, that person you’ve been with recently? Unwine? Un-”

“Undyne.”

“That's it.” He snaps his fingers and sits back, “You guys seem close.”

It's true, you and Undyne got along pretty well, as Papyrus predicted. She visits you at school during lunch to hang out with you. She was a little intimidating at first, but after a while you warmed up to her. You appreciate her brute strength and her sense of humor. She didn't seem to mind that you were either surly or emotionless when you’re with people, which is a plus. You introduced her to the music you liked, she took you over to her place to hang out, you showed her your studio… Yeah, you guys are pretty good friends.

So, of course you shrug and dismiss his question.

“We’re cool I guess.”

“You've been hanging out with her a LOT.”

“Maybe we’re more than cool.” You say slowly.

“So she’s friend status?” he raises an eyebrow.

“She’s--”

**WHAM.**

You both jump. What the-

“You lil punk…” a furious Undyne strides across the room.

Uh oh.

_What did I do now?_

She hovers over you and Brandon, anger flashing in her eye. Her wild red hair was everywhere. Did she run here?

“CHECK. YOUR. GODDAMN. PHONE.” Undyne leans closer to you at each word she said.

You quickly dig around your pockets and draw out your phone. It was on silent. And there were-

“5 unread messages and 7 missed calls” You say in awe. Undyne folds her arms.

“Read.” She commands.

“Don't have to be so pushy…” You mumble. And so you begin to read:

***Hey kiddo. Me, Alphys, Mettaton and Papyrus are throwing a Christmas slumber party tonight at the skelebro’s place. Come. Food, dancing, and movie marathons. It's going to be sick.**

***Check your phone punk.**

***You better be dead cuz that’s the only reason I’ll excuse being ignored.**

***Imma kill you if you don’t answer in the next 20 minutes.**

***Coming over.**

***

“...Skelebro’s?” You ask curiously.

“Papyrus has a brother.”

“Ah.”

...

“You’re gonna want to bring a toothbrush.”

“I'm not going.” You put your phone back in your pocket.

“Yes you are. You're the only friend I have that makes me feel sane. Except maybe Alphys.” Undyne scratches her head, flushing a little. “But Alphys isn’t… Like you… Like that…” she trails off.

“You gotta tell her one day, man.”

“I KNOW, PUNK.” Undyne roars, blushing furiously, “BUT TODAY IS NOT THAT DAY.”

“I'm still not going.”

“Not going where?” Brandon decides to cut in.

“Slumber party.” Undyne states simply.

Brandon pauses and looks over to you. You were calmly looking Undyne the eye.

“Excuse me… Undyne, can I talk to her a second?” Brandon asks, getting up from the couch.

“Sure. But I'm not done talking to you ___________.”

“Mkay.” You get up from the couch as well, and Brandon grabbed you hand and led you to the hallway. Once you get there, he turns to you. He radiated seriousness, and it threw you off. He's rarely like this.

“I think you should go.”

“No.”

“___________, I really truly think that this will be a good thing.”

You shake your head violently. No. Not again. You don't want to, you really really don't want to.

“Brandon, please-”

“I know Undyne. I've noticed you were with her a lot. I introduced myself to her, and we’ve been talking.”

“Y-you know-”

“Yes. And I trust her. I trust the crowd she’s with.”

“We trusted him too.”

Brandon stops dead. You were shaking like a leaf, twisting the hem of your sweatshirt in anxiety.

“I never trusted him. I never once liked that fucking bastard.” He growls.

“You grew up with him, ___________, so you only saw the best in him. But I never once approved of his existence.” Brandon grabs your shoulders, and looks you in the eye.

“You trusted him, and now you trust nobody-”

“-except you...” Your voice cracks.

“Can you trust me on this then?” He asks, “Go with Undyne. I believe that this is a good thing.”

“...and if it’s a bad thing?”

He smiles and hugs you, stroking your head.

_”I ‘ l l m a k e t h e m r e g r e t i t.”_

***

“What were you and Brandon talking about?” Undyne questions for billionth time. You're both walking to Papyrus’ place, and she won't shut up about your ‘secret conversation’ with Brandon since you left. And you left pretty quickly. As soon as you agreed to go, Undyne dragged you out the door before you could change your mind.

“You know I'm not going to leave you alone with this, what were you conspiring about?”

“Nothing!”

“Sure.”

“We were just talking about things.”

“What kind of things?”

“Stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Oh, look.” You point ahead. “Is that Papyrus?”

It was Papyrus. Good thing he was there, that was a good time for a subject change.

“WELCOME TO MY CASTLE!!” Papyrus shouts from the door as you and Undyne walk up. He steps aside and lets you into the house.

It was a cute home. Run-down, kinda dirty, but in a way it was comforting. You take off your shoes and follow Papyrus and Undyne to the livingroom. Sitting on a little green couch next to the TV, was Alphys. She was bundled up in what looked like four blankets.

“Hey Alph.” Undyne clears her throat, “what's with all the insulation?” She gestures to the blankets.

“P-Papyrus was standing at the door for an hour and t-twenty minutes.” she stutters, “it got really c-cold.”

She was right. It was freezing.

“Papyrus,” you turned to him, “Why… were you standing at the door for so long?”

“WELL.” Papyrus says happily, “I JUST COULDN'T WAIT TO SEE YOU GUYS, SO I WAITED FOR YOU RIGHT AT THE DOOR.”

“You could've waited inside the door.” Undyne says, unamused.

“OH. NEVER THOUGHT OF THAT!!” Papyrus narrows his eyes, questioning his decision. After a minute, he pipes back up again.

“WHO WANTS SPAGHETTI??”

“M-me please.” Alphys gratefully accepted his offer.

Undyne turns to you and rest her hands on your shoulders.

“Thank you so fucking much for coming.” She groans.

You laugh lightly and pat her arm. 

“You're welcome.”

***

_Okay, I thought this was an awful idea._

But this party is so fun. You made spaghetti (because for some reason, Papyrus put glitter in his), drank hot cocoa, and talked about anime. You introduced them to Noragami, and everyone was hooked on it. Mettaton arrived about an hour after you and Undyne, and with him he brought videogames. Mariokart, to be exact. And guess who's the queen of Mariokart?

“YES!!” You screech. “First. Freakin. Place!!”

Papyrus flips out.

“HOW DID YOU WIN AGAINST THE GREAT PAPYRUS??” he was legitimately shocked. 

Mettaton made some dumbass excuses for the fact that he was last place.

“The sunlight got in my eyes.” He says defiantly, “I also didn't want to make darling Papyrus feel bad.” He shoots Papyrus a seductive look. Papyrus turns so orange in the he kinda looks like the fruit.

Alphys didn't say anything. She sat there, processing her defeat. Second place wasn't bad, but she never lost. Never.

Meanwhile, Undyne screams bloody murder and chucks her controller at the TV. You did a little victory dance, making her rage even more.

“REVENGE!” She bellows as she tackles you onto the couch.

And then, the tickling. God, the TICKLING. Undyne tickles you mercilessly, you squirm and struggle to get out of her grip.

“Sta-stahp…!” You gasp, “I c-can’t- hahah!!”

Your laughter ring out, and Undyne stopped for about two seconds. She smiles at you devilishly.

“I didn't know you were this ticklish.” She smirks, “Now I know your weakness.”

“No I'm not.” You breathe. You knew she wasn't going to believe you. She's no fool. You just didn't want to give her the satisfaction of admitting it.

“If you aren't ticklish,” She pokes your side, making you squeak and shrink away, “I guess you wouldn't mind if I tickled you more?”

“That's a very tempting offer,” you say as seriously as possible, “but due to personal reasons I'm going to say no.”

“Ha. Why?” Undyne flashes her toothy grin, raising an eyebrow. You think for a second.

“It's against my religion………?” You say finally.

Undyne looks at you like you're the most ridiculous thing she's ever seen.

“You don’t sound so sure.” She moves towards you.

“I'm very extremely sure.” You scoot away a little, but not before she grabs you again. You screech in surprise as she attacks your sides again. Everyone was laughing. This is the most fun you've had in a long time.

“pretty lively in here.”

You freeze. Undyne looks at you curiously.

“___________?”

Sans ambles into the room, eyes lidded lazily and hands in his pockets.

“this kind of fun _tickles_ my fancy.” He laughs, “mind if i join?”


	8. Rule #8 - If You Meet Two Skeletons, They're Probably Brothers.

***A little earlier…***

Sans walks down the street after a long day of pretending to work. Okay, he does work a little, but he mostly uses the time to think. He thinks mostly about Papyrus and Frisk, how he’s handling himself, nightmares, worries… Oh god, so many worries. The stomach-churning concerns plagued his mind, and the only way he could subdue them is by thinking it through. But more recently… You’ve been taking up his thoughts.

_i wonder what she’s doing right now._

_would it be weird if i just… showed up at her place?_

_shut up sans. no need to be a creep. keep cool._

He pulls up his hood and sinks into it a bit, sighing. He really needs a nap. He’s almost home… 

As he approaches the house, he hears screaming.

_heh, undyne and alphys must be visiting._

He shuffles to the door, and cringes when he hears a flighty metallic laugh. Mettaton. He opens the door quietly, hoping to sneak upstairs to his room so he doesn't have to deal with the robot’s bullshit… Then he hears another laugh.

_that’s new._

It was a light laugh, but it rang out above everyone else’s background noise. It seems a little familiar to him. Did Papyrus make a new friend? He peeks around the corner.

He felt his insides flutter.

You were on the couch with Undyne, playing Mariokart with everyone. Final lap, you’re in first place. Undyne was staring at the TV so intensely, you’d think it insulted her somehow. Finally, Undyne screams, and all chaos ensues. Mettaton starts talking bullshit, Papyrus goes cross-eyed, protesting his defeat. 

Alphys was silent. Poor gal.

You were jumping up and down excitedly, full of adrenaline. Undyne was yelling at you, but you just make fun of her and dance. You sway from side to side with your arms in the air, nodding your head to the movement of your hips. Seeing your little victory dance, Sans covers his face. He feels a warmth rushing to his head.

_so cute._

Eventually, you were tackled and pinned by Undyne. She tickled you mercilessly. As much as Sans enjoyed watching her torment you, he finally gets a grip on himself and walks into the room. Everyone looks his way, and smile upon seeing him. Except for you. You just froze where you were.

_she still angry with me?_

Your surprise turned to confusion as he walks closer. Your face flushes.

_heh. she is._

“this kind of fun _tickles_ my fancy.” He laughs, “mind if I join?”

“SANS!!” Papyrus squeals and runs over to him, “WE’RE HAVING A PARTY!!”

“cool bro. what brings this chic here?” He nods in your direction.

“WE’RE FRIENDS!! WE’VE BEEN FRIENDS EVER SINCE I HELPED HER CLEAN UP GARBAGE!!” you blush more at this comment, and he continues, “...DO YOU KNOW HER BROTHER??”

Sans shrugs, catching your eye briefly. You grimace at his chill outlook on the whole situation.

“i've run into her once or twice.” he says coolly.

Papyrus looks at you, and you look away from him. You fiddle with your sweatshirt sleeve, waiting for him to drop his gaze.

“THAT’S GREAT!! YOU GUYS ARE ALREADY PALS.”

It took all your willpower not to correct him. Sans noticed this, and made him grin even wider at you.

_this is gonna be enjoyable._

***

You knew Papyrus had a brother.

You knew that Sans had a brother.

They're both skeletons.

How did you not put two and two together?

_Stupid stupid stupid._

After all misunderstandings were cleared up, Papyrus and Undyne went to the kitchen to prep movie marathon food. Alphys and Mettaton proceded to small talk, leaving you alone. Oh, Sans was there (staring you down), but you like to think that you were alone.

You were considering leaving when he first arrived. But then you considered how desperate Undyne was for someone to keep her mentally stable.

_The mentally unstable one is stabilizing someone else's mentality. Hilarious._

And as much as you didn’t want to admit it… You were having fun. You didn't really have to admit it, you blatantly showed it.

Would you still have fun with Sans here?

You shake your head. You're not going to let him be the deciding point on whether you have fun or not. You’re determined to show him that he doesn’t bother you.

“hey girly.”

_Stay determined._

“My name isn’t girly. You know that.”

“i know i know that.” He grins as he approaches you. “i think we’re on good enough terms for nicknames, hm?”

He steps closer to you, and your first instinct is to step back, but you stand your ground. 

“Don't you think it’s cocky to assume such things?” You say carefully.

“heh, maybe. but i think you shouldn't be so _sternum_ around me. i don’t bite.”

“I know you don’t bite.” you cock your head, “but I know you lick.”

His face turned blue. You caught him off guard.

_Victory._

“whatever.” He grumbles, then clears his throat.

“i like the idea of nicknames. you can call me b-man.” He regains his usual aloofness. You two were now face to face, and it was really difficult not to step away from his uncomfortable closeness.

“What does the B stand for? Bastard?” you ask, unamused.

“bone.”

“I prefer bastard.”

“cute.”

You flush deeply. The tone he’s using is confusing, so you just assume that he was mocking you.

“I’m--”

“HUMAN, SET UP THE TV!! WE’RE DONE WITH THE SNACKS PREPARATION.” 

You turn to see Papyrus bounding into the livingroom with Undyne, carrying copious amounts of popcorn and spaghetti. You turn back to where Sans was standing to find that he is now lounging on the couch.

_How’d he move so fast?_

Shaking your head, you go over to the TV and turn it on. You search the cardboard box next to the stand labeled ‘moviez’ and begin the hunt for a Christmas movie. You search and search… 

“Papyrus?” You call out, “Do you have anything other than Mettaton movies?”

You hear Undyne laugh and Mettaton scoff in the back.

“OF COURSE NOT HUMAN. METTATON IS THE ONLY STAR IN THIS HOME.” He says proudly.

You turn around and look at him.

“We’re getting you guys a Netflix. Cuz as much as I like ‘A Mettaton Christmas’” you say, waving the movie around, “I like variety more, bud.”

“I DON’T KNOW WHAT A NETFLIX IS, BUT IT SOUNDS INTRIGUING!”

“I guess you could say that.”

You insert the movie, stand up and walk back to the couch. Sans moved. And he was in your spot. He sits there, grinning at you smugly, then he pats the seat next to him. You frown at him and stride over to the chair next to Mettaton. No way in hell were you sitting next to him for three hours. You’d rather have Mettaton whisper commentary than endure more harrassment. Can it be called harrassment? You weren't really sure. It wasn't quite as serious as harrassment, but it's annoying enough.

As you ponder this, Sans glances at you from his seat. You look like you’re thinking hard.

“SANS, CAN YOU TURN OFF THE LIGHTS?? THE MOVIE IS STARTING.”

Sans nods lazily. One of his eyes flicker a bright cyan, then the lightswitch flicks off.

“LAZYBONES.” Papyrus scoffs at his use of magic.

Sans smiles and shrugs, turning his attention to the TV.

***

Sans huffs, trying to catch his breath. He’s standing in the great hall in the Asgore’s castle, facing his worst nightmare.

“you know…” he breathes, “you can just reset. i know you can. frisk, i know you’re there, so fight back!”

Chara didn’t reply. They stand there, knife in hand, a wide smile plastered on their rosy face. 

“please, kid.”

They take a step forward.

“please.” His voice cracks, “i’m so tired. bring papyrus back. i don’t want to hurt you, and i’m tired of being hurt.” 

Another step.

Sans’ face contorts into a hard grin.

“i see how it is.”

A massive dragon skull hovers above him, burning with the potential to blast Chara to nothing. Slowly, Sans lifts his arm and says his line. But for the first time in a lifeline, his voice falters.

**“get dunked on.”**

***

Sans wakes suddenly, breathing heavily and sweating like a dog. His eyes flash around the room. He’s at home. He’s not in the castle. Chara’s not here. Chara isn’t real. It isn’t real.

His eyes close and clutches his arms.

_it’s not real it’s not real it’s not real it’s not real..._

He looks over to the couch next to his. Papyrus was there, snoring softly with the occasional ‘nyehehe’. Sans takes a deep breath.

_paps is here. its okay. everything is fine now, no more resets._

He sighs and looks around the room once more, taking it all in. Everyone was sleeping peacfully on the couch… Except for Undyne and Alphys, somehow they ended up in a bundle of blankets on the floor. 

_wait-- where is she?_

His eyes widen in panic and he stumbles up from his seat. He looks around frantically, then his eyes finally find you. He relaxes and sits back down. You’re snuggled in your sofa/chair, hugging your knees to you chest. Your eyes are wide open.

_did she even fall asleep?_

“hey.”

You look up at him.

“can you sleep?”

You shake your head and turn away.

“You were having a nightmare.” You whisper.

_shit._

“heh, nah. i was just having a _very_ good dream.” Sans winks, trying to brush it off.

“You’re sweating a lot. I can smell you from here.”

_this woman is ruthless._

“...you’re so gentle to someone who was just having a nightmare.” He says sourly.

“I know right?” You get up, stretch, and walk to the kitchen.

...

...

“whatcha doing?”

“Can’t sleep. Making tea.” You reply bluntly.

“mm.”

A few minutes pass, and Sans just sits there, eyes closed, thinking. There isn’t a chance of him going back to sleep tonight. He doesn’t really want to, even if he could. Dreams like that tend to come back. 

He rests his arm on the back of the couch, and turns his head to look at you. You were searching the cabinets for tea. Your hair keeps falling in your face as you rummage through the lower drawers. He turns back around and sinks into the couch. He feels more grounded now…

You drop yourself into the seat next to him. He looks at you, surprised that you suddenly approached him. He looks down.

There’s two cups in your hands.

“is that…”

“I had extra water.” You say dismissively, handing him the tea. He accepts it gratefully, amusement flickering in his eye.

A few minutes go by, and neither of you say anything. It's a little uncomfortable, because you know Sans is wondering what on earth you're doing. Normally you wouldn't want to go up to him like this. Finally, you speak up.

“Nightmares suck.”

“huh?”

You shrug and fiddle with your tea-tag, not really sure what to say after that.

“is this your way of comforting me?”

“No, I’m just saying that they suck. And you weren't having a nightmare, remember?” You say, taking a sip, “You were having a really good dream.”

“right.” Sans nods.

Silence.

“you know,” Sans looks to the ceiling, “people usually feel bad for me when i tell them about nightmares. sometimes people offer to fix them. they offer to fix my head.”

You look over to him warily. He meets your eyes.

“-i’ve never had someone who simply says ‘they suck.’”

“It’s true.” You shrug, “I think it’s better to acknowledge someone’s pain and help them feel better. Not try and fix them.”

“is there a difference?” He asks. He knows the answer, but this is the most serious conversation he’s had with you, and he wants to get as many thoughts from you as possible.

“Of course there’s a difference.” You look offended.

“what is it?”

“When you try and fix someone, you’re trying to change them. You’re trying to change the person they are, so they don’t feel the way they do.” You say, “When you acknowledge their struggle, you’re accepting the way they are, and-” you stop suddenly. Sans was watching you intently.

“Are you making fun of me?”

“not making fun. continue.” He waves his hand to urge you on. 

“You’re making fun of me.” You say annoyed, “I’m going back.” 

You attempt to get up from the couch, but Sans grabs your sleeve and pulls on you.

“please stay.”

You pause. He sounds so… Pleading. Your expression softens.

“Fine. I don’t want to wake up Undyne.” You grumble.

“thank you for being so considerate.” Sans drawls.

“Hmph.”

You both sit there, empty teacups in hand, listening to the faint humming of the static TV. Sans still holds onto your sleeve. He puts his head back on the couch.

_this is kinda nice._

Sans looks over to you. You seem to be dozing off. Chuckling, he leans over to you.

“you know, for someone who doesn’t care,” he whispers, “you sure care a lot.”

“S-shut up.” You mumble, swatting your hand at him, which he dodged easily. “Sleeping here.”

“heh.”

You eventually fall asleep on the armrest of the couch. Sans looks over to your sleeping form. Your hair is in your mouth, and you're breathing deeply. You look as if you don't have a care in the world.

_we aren’t so different, you and i._

Sans smiles and rests his head on your arm.

_maybe i could try to sleep..._

He closes his eyes and drifts off into oblivion.


	9. Rule #9 - Don't Count On Your Best Friend to Get a Skeleton Off You.

You're not a touchy feely person, or a person who is okay being close with others. So, waking up to someone who you aren't sure if they hate you, like you, or simply take you for a fool, makes you a little panicky. 

It's early morning, and you're still at the skelebro's house. You and Sans crashed on the couch after your deep (and slightly aggressive) conversation over nightmares and tea. You remembered him grabbing your sleeve asking you to stay with him, and you falling asleep on the armrest. This was exactly what happened... You can't recall anything else.

_So why the fuck... IS HE ON TOP OF ME?!_

You're pinned between the couch and Sans, in a somewhat awkward position. He's laying facedown on your back, snoring loudly. One of his arms is around your shoulder, the other is dangling off the side of the couch, and his leg somehow got twisted up with yours. His face was nearly brushing the nape of your neck. You could feel his breath, which sent chills down your spine. You tried your best to lift yourself, but you couldn't move at all. This guy is way heavier than he looks. You groan and try to shift yourself somehow, but you make no progress. You turn your head (the only part of your that can move at the moment) and look around the room helplessly. Everyone is asleep. Papyrus had a couch all to himself, the lucky little nugget, and Mettaton was sleeping on the ground... Doing the splits?

You decide not to question it.

Undyne and Alphys were cuddled up in their own little ball on the floor. You silently wish Undyne luck with explaining their position to Alphys. Maybe they'll finally get together. They look so cute, holding each others arms gently.

Whereas over here your ribcage was being crushed, and your shoulders had the world's most iron grip on them. You wonder briefly if you should wake him up, but then decided that you'd only do that if worse comes to worst. For now, you quietly call out to Undyne for help.

"Undyne." You whisper, "Undyne, wake up!"

No response.

"UNDYNE." You whisper a little louder.

She grunts, and her eyes squeeze a little tighter.

 _".........Too... Tired......"_ she groans and scoots a little closer to Alphys.

"I need help!" You whisper frantically. She turns her head and squints at you. Then her body starts shaking.

"STOP LAUGHING. NOT. FUNNY." You hiss at her.

"...i dunno. this is pretty hilarious." You hear a low voice rumble in your ear. You tense, turning your head sideways to find yourself nearly face to face with Sans. Literally, your faces were almost touching. He's grinning broadly and is making no attempt to get off of you. You flush bright red.

"Good. You're awake." You say irritatedly, "Now get off me."

"i dun wanna." His morning voice rasps in your ear. 

He lays his head on your back again, shifting himself a little. "...kinda comfortable here. what 'bout you? ya like being in the middle of a _sans_ wich?"

Your face was on fire. How can he be so shameless? The little bastard. Last night you considered that he might be different from the impression he made on you... But here he was, on your back, being his usual annoying self.

_Remember when this guy actually listened to me? Ah, those were the good old days._

"If you don't get off me, I'll smack you." You threaten.

"good luck lifting your arms." He mumbles into your back.

You look over to Undyne who was clutching her stomach trying not to laugh.

"Undyne... Help... Me..." You plead while looking at her like a wounded animal, and she stops laughing. She glances from you to Sans, who looks cool as a cucumber with the situation at hand. You look like you want to die.

Undyne sighs and gets up slowly, careful not to disturb Alphys. Then she shuffles to the couch. Sans opens an eye and nods a greeting to her.

"mornin' undyne. what brings you to this side of the couch?" He yawns.

"Rescuing a damsel in distress." Undyne says tiredly. With one swift movement, she picks him up and plops him on Papyrus' couch. Papyrus didn't even flinch, he continued snoring/nyehehing. Sans slumps into the cushions.

"what a shame, that was really comfortable." He closes his eyes, "you're small."

"I'm not small."

"you're perfect pillow size."

"I'm barely smaller than you."

"be careful, someone might step on you."

"Fine. I might be smaller," you admit, "But I'm definitely stronger."

"you couldn't even lift me."

"You're literally all bones! Bones are heavy!" You say angrily.

"whatever you say, little weakling."

"Fight me."

"fine, let's go."

"--THERE'S ONLY TWO WAYS TO SETTLE A DISPUTE."

You jump. How long was Papyrus up? You didn't even notice him.

"THE TRADITION IS A SPAGHETTI COOKING CONTEST." He proclaims, "BUT, FOR THIS PARTICULAR CASE, I SUGGEST..."

Dramatic pause. The guy has been watching way too many Mettaton movies, he practically is Mettaton.

"...AN ARM WRESTLING CONTEST!!" He shouts, jumping off the couch. Alphys jerks awake and sits straight up, striking a fighting pose in her shock. Undyne pats her shoulder carefully, trying to ease her out of her morning daze.

Mettaton is continues sleeping while doing the splits. Mettaton gives no fucks.

"arm wrestling? sounds exhausting." Sans sinks even deeper into the couch. You silently wish he'd be absorbed by it.

"I win then." You declare.

Sans looks at you incredulously, then shrugs. You must know that you'll be beaten, right?

_Yeah. I kinda do._

"don't hurt yourself girly." He stands and walks to the coffee table. You do the same. You give him your 'no-mercy' grimace. He smiles at you lazily.

"I'LL BE THE REFEREE!!" Papyrus skips over, pulling a whistle from somewhere(???). He stands between you and Sans.

"mkay paps." Sans sets his elbow on the table, eyeing you with amusment.

"be gentle." He hums.

"Not a chance." You set your arm on the table and grasp his hand.

**_TWEEEEET._ **

You put all your strength into pushing his arm down. But--

"God... Freakin... Dang it!!" You huff. His arm is NOT budging. He isn't making an effort to win, either. He's just sitting there, stupid grin on his face, watching you struggle.

_Pompous bastard._

You start putting your weight on his arm. Little by little...

"Yes..." You breathe. It's pushing down a little. Yeah, you're cheating, but you aren't letting him win. His arm is almost reaching the table now...

**THUD.**

You sit there in shock as your arm swings back around and hits the table. You wince. Fucking hell...

"i win."

Your arm hit the table **hard.** Yeah, that's gonna bruise. It took every ounce of willpower to not scream in his face. He must've cheated or some shit. You were so close, there's not way he could've made a turnaround.

"That... Was... INTENSE!!" Undyne hoots, jumping around.

"Y-yeah... Is your arm okay ___________?" Alphys says, concerned.

"d'aw, i didn't hurt you, did i?" Sans purrs.

You shot him a murderous look. He folds his arms and raises an eyebrow at you.

"I'm fine." You hiss at him, "Fantastic, really."

Undyne grabs your shoulders and you cringe at her roughness. You're definitely bruised.

"Better luck next time punk." She laughs.

***

_did she... cringe?_

Sans was beginning to question whether he went too far. He may have imagined it, but you seemed to wince when Undyne grabbed you. And knowing you, you'd rather lose an arm than admit you were in pain.

_should i ask?_

He looks over to you and Undyne. You two are arguing about whether narwhals could be classified as "unicorn dolphins". He laughs to himself when he sees Papyrus eagerly join the discussion. Alphys was sticking next to Undyne, twiddling her thumbs.

_i can ask paps to ask her later._

You might listen to Papyrus, you're kinda a pushover for him. Well, more than anyone else, at least.

Now you and Papyrus were discussing breakfast food, and Undyne was furiously trying to change the subject back to narwhals. You and Papyrus nod to each other and walk to the kitchen. Undyne follows you, shaking her fists in the air yelling, "This isn't over punk!"

_yeah, i'll ask later. but for now, breakfast._


	10. Rule #10 - Don't Read Into It Too Much.

Breakfast was chaotic. The original plan for food was pancakes, but then Papyrus decided to go all creative. As soon as your back was turned, he dumped some leftover spaghetti into the batter, making a greyish-red sludge that you couldn't bear put onto the frying pan. Papyrus on the other hand was totally chill with the greyish-red sludge, and proceeded to dump the _whole fucking thing_ into the pan, splashing it on the wall, floor, and anything that was within the radius of the stove.

That includes you.

Your long-sleeved shirt was covered in noodles and batter, making you look like chef Boyardee had a bad day at iHop. Groaning, you lift your hands up away from the mess on your shirt. and Papyrus looks at you apologetically.

"HUMAN, I'M SORRY!!" He whines, "I DIDN'T MEAN TO SPLASH YOU."

"It's fine..." You grumble, and he gives you a look of disbelief. Oh jeez, that look.

"No, it's really fine." You say a little more warmly. He looks more convinced.

"SHALL WE FIND YOU CLEAN CLOTHES?" He offers with a smile.

"Uh, sure, that would be the first course of action." You say, stepping away from the stove, "I didn't bring any extra clothes, maybe Undyne has something?"

"Sorry kid, the only shirt I brought is the one I'm wearing." Undyne calls from the table.

"Don't worry about it." You turn your head to Alphys, "Do you by any chance have clothes Alph?"

"I-I'm sorry..." Alphys scratches her head awkwardly, "I only brought an extra lab coat."

_Why on earth would she need an extra lab coat?_

"I MAY HAVE SOME CLOTHES, ALTHOUGH THEY MAY BE A LITTLE BIG." Papyrus says, "SHALL I GET THEM??"

You open your mouth to say "Yes please" but Papyrus was already gone. He sprinted out of the kitchen and up the stairs to his room, and brings down a t-shirt that reads  
'Cool dude' on front in capital letters. He skips over to you and thrusts the shirt in your face. You take it and hold it against yourself to check the size. It's way... WAY too big for you.

"Thank you so much Papyrus, but..." You hesitate, "Do you maybe have any shirts that aren't the size of a dress on me?"

Papyrus squints his eyes, thinking hard. You two wait there for a minute, then his eyes fly back open and he snaps his fingers.

"SANS HAS SMALLER T-SHIRTS. MAYBE HE'LL BRING YOU ONE-"

"Oh no no no no." You stutter a little, "That's okay, I'll stick with this."

"NONSENSE! SANS WON'T CARE. I'LL GET YOU ONE!" He snatches away his t-shirt before you could protest further, and sprints back up the stairs. Papyrus did not know the meaning of walking. Or calm. Or quiet. But you kinda like his energy, it's overwhelming but refreshing.

Soon he comes jumping back down the stairs, with a smaller shirt which you can only assume to be Sans'. You'd gladly take back Papyrus' shirt, but it's a little late to be changing your mind again, even though you never really changed your mind in the first place. You silently kick yourself for complaining about the dress-shirt. Papyrus skips over to you with the shirt and hands it to you. You mumble a quick thanks, take it and speed walk to the bathroom. As you pass the livingroom, Sans catches eyes with you from the couch. He looks the mess on your front, then down to his shirt, and his grin spreads a little wider. You feel your face get hot. You grip the fabric tighter and turn away from him, rushing to the bathroom.

_Today is off to a great start._

***

_good job paps._

Sans watches you clutch his shirt as you run to the bathroom. You glare at him, but your glare isn't as effective when you're blushing so much. He rests his arms on the back of the couch and closes his eyes, laughing to himself. It's not a big deal to him, but he knows you won't live this one down.

_it's funny how worked up she gets._

Sans fiddles with the couch cushions, waiting for you to come out. He looks at the bathroom door.

_she's taking her time, huh?_

He looks around. Alphys and Papyrus were scrubbing the kitchen, trying to rid the place of the pancake-spaghetti batter. Undyne was still sitting at the dining room table, flipping through the comics page of the newspaper. Mettaton, who was a little ways away from his feet, was rebooting finally. The guy literally slept for fourteen hours. Kinda impressive.

Sans looks back at the bathroom door again. It's been ten minutes, is everything okay?

...

And then he realized.

***

_Shit shit shit shit._

Your messy clothes are tossed on the ground. You had the t-shirt, but you haven't put it on yet. That's because there's a long, purple bruise from your elbow to your wrist. It looks terrible, and it wasn't getting any better. Splotches of dark blue are starting to appear. You look in the mirror, assessing if it was as bad as it looks from afar than it is up close. It's still pretty bad. You try turning your arm to see if you could hide it a bit, but to no avail. You mumble curses under your breath.

_Well, I have two options._

Go back out with the shirt on and show everyone that you lied about your arm being hurt and making people worry, or put back on the dirty shirt and see if you could find a sweater or something. You weren't a fan of either, but you decide to go with the second option. You pick up the dirty clothes and slip them back on.

_Euuugh._

Your nose wrinkles at the soppiness of the shirt. God, it really smelled. You sigh and open the door of the bathroom, but it stopped halfway. Weird. You peek around it-

Sans was leaning against the wall, holding the door with his foot. You close the door to a crack and glared at him through the opening.

"What the hell do you want?" You hiss.

"you cold?" He gives you a side glance.

"Wha-"

"you are? well, here you go." Sans opens the door with his foot and tosses you a sweatshirt. You caught it with your face. Stunned, you slowly take it off your head and look out the door. He wasn't there anymore. Poking your head around the corner, you saw him lounging on the couch again. You blink stupidly.

_Did that just happen?_

You close the door slowly and lean against it for a minute. Did he know that your arm was hurt? If so, why did he care? You shake your head, not really knowing what to think. You peel off the gross clothes once more, and slip on the tee and the sweatshirt. 

_Huh._

The sweatshirt smelled of smoke, spaghetti and Grillby's. Grillby's has a distinct smell, and it was a little comforting to have something so familiar around you. Luckily, all the way around you. It was a little big, but it covered your arms fully (and a little bit of your legs). You look in the mirror. Bruise is no longer visible, and neither is Sans' intentions. This dude is giving you some serious mindfuck. You gather up the clothes and step out of the bathroom. You pass the livingroom, avoiding looking at Sans. When you walk into the dining room, Undyne looks up from her paper.

"Sup ___________. You look much better." Undyne flashes her toothy grin. "Papyrus and Alph are making bacon."

"Cool." You say absentmindedly, sitting yourself in a chair across from her. You're still in a daze, trying to figure out what happened in the bathroom. Undyne notices your spacey attitude.

"You okay bud?" She closes sets aside the comics and looks at you, curious as to what you're thinking about.

"Hm? Oh, yeah." You nod.

"You're frowning. More than usual."

"Just thinking."

"About what?" She leans forward. She's always so curious to know what's happening in your head.

_Shit. Come up with something ___________, and fast._

"About you and Alphys cuddling on the floor this morning." You say quickly. Undyne's face blushes intensely, her hands curling into fists. Nice work ___________, well done.

"Don't... Say anything to her..." She whispers, giving you a look that could kill.

"I won't. But you gotta make a move at some point. Why not now?" You raise your eyebrows at her. She looks down.

"I'm not sure how to... How do you bring something like that up...?" she mutters, "I'm not really good with this kind of thing ___________."

"I know." You say deadpan. Her head snaps up, glaring at you angrily. You fight back the urge to tease her more.

"If you can't do anything, I could try and make something happen." You shrug.

"No. I don't want that. I want everything to happen naturally, even if it takes a while." Undyne shakes her head at your offer, then stops. She leans towards you.

"But let's pretend for a second... That you did do something. " She whispers, "What would you do?"

You fold your arms, a small smile playing on your lips. Undyne is such a dork for Alphys, it's adorable.

"I'm thinking mistletoe."

***

And that's how Undyne ended up kissing Alphys on the cheek under a sprig of mistletoe. Earlier you asked Mettaton to use his long arms to hold up the mistletoe, which he eagerly accepted. In fact, after he agreed to help, you both have a long conversation about the two of them. And as it turns out, Mettaton is a raging shipper.

"Darling, I've been watching them closely since we left the Underground." He gushes, "They are... Too... Cute!" He grabs your hand enthusiastically, sighing a bit, "Undyne's brute strength and willpower! Alphys' brains and timid personality! The way Undyne melts whenever Alphys speaks to her!"

Mettaton smiles mischievously and pulls your arms, bringing you towards him. He leans forward and whispers in your ear.

"The very sight of them... It's a turnon, don't you think?" He hums.

_Whoa. Shipping fetish detected._

"Hm, is that what you call it?" You say coolly, not losing your composure. He's just a robot, for god's sake. No need to freak. 

**He looks you over with an expression you can't quite read.**

"Hahah." He laughs lightly, "You know, I've been thinking darling-"

"A dangerous pastime." You say, looking him in the eye. He ignores your attempt to shut him up.

"-you're quite a curious person." He says with a smile.

"I'm flattered." You say, not giving him a reaction, "But I could also say the same for you."

"Well, I know I'm interesting." He leans down, closing in on you. You feel a little trapped here, even though he isn't forcing you to be this close to him. You just can't back down.

"But." His smile slips a bit, "I was talking about something else."

He lets go of your arms, not stepping down but not getting closer. He lifts a hand and presses his finger between your collarbone and your chest.

"What're you--"

**Ba-dum.**

Time stops. Undyne and Alphys, who were talking in the corner of the kitchen, froze in place. Papyrus wasn't moving, which is eerie in it's own way. The only people in this time and space is you and Mettaton. 

"S-stop..."

**Ba-dum**

A pastel pink glow is coming from your chest, and it aches. It aches in a way it hasn't ached in a long time. You felt a million emotions that you keep under lock and key release. The feelings rush to your head, making you wince. An unexpected warmth travels through your limbs, sending a tingling sensation through your bones. You close your eyes, and you hear voices... So many voices. You weren't sure if they were in your mind or not. Most of the voices belong to people you don't care for. Some of them are friendly voices. Mom, dad, Brandon... You can hear Brandon talking to you. He says it's going to be okay. 

"Everything's going to be fine. You have me now." He whispers. You relax a bit, listening to Brandon's comforting words. His words are warm, like a blanket.

Then you hear a different voice. A lighter, kind voice that you hoped you would never hear again. Your eyes fly open, wide in panic.

_Go away._

He's calling your name, asking you to listen to him.

_Leave me alone._

"___________, can't you let it go?"

_Everybody, leave me alone. I just want to be alone. Can't you see you're not wanted?_

"You're so stubborn. I fucked up, okay? It's not a big deal."

_It is a big deal. It is a big deal and you have no right to say otherwise. You betrayed me._

Mettaton is gone. Instead, he's standing in front of you. The person who fucked you up beyond repair. Your heart stops. He's standing right there, touching your chest. Your eyes widen even further, and in crazed panic and fear, you reach for his throat.

***

You gasp, sucking in as much air as possible to ease your aching lungs. Mettaton was no longer touching you. He stood frozen in place, watching you breathe in raspily, trying to calm down. You can feel your heart pounding in your ears. You hold your hand to your chest, easing your nerves. You have no idea what the hell that was. You look up at Mettaton, creasing your brow in confusion. 

"I'm sorry..." He whispers. "I was curious, I didn't know..." he trails off.

"Didn't know what?" You say, voice cracking. 

Mettaton doesn't respond, he's too busy hugging you. He wraps you in a big, metallic, surprisingly warm hug, and says "I didn't know" and "I'm sorry" over and over. You weren't sure what to say back. Even if you did, you probably couldn't because he's crushing your ribs, making it a little difficult to say anything. Mettaton let's you go after a few more apologies, steps back and wipes his face.

_Was he crying?_

"Now, darlings!" He's back to his loud, extravagant self, "I do believe it's time for me to depart!"

He throws you one last apologetic look, then turns away to say goodbye to the others. You stand there for a few minutes, watching them hug and say goodbye. Papyrus gives him an especially long hug, much to the dismay of Sans. Normally you'd feel warm seeing Papyrus' and Sans' shenanigans, but right now you feel numb. You want to sleep. You need Brandon. You stumble to the livingroom and dig around the couch cushions for your phone. Your hand finds it, and you whip it out to text Brandon.

-Hey. I'm not feeling so good.

You glance towards the kitchen. Everyone is saying their last goodbyes. Undyne grabs Mettaton by the neck and gives him a noogie.  
You feel your phone vibrate.

*Hey girl :) what's wrong?

You weren't sure how to say what's wrong without sounding like you're having a breakdown, so you just text:

-I had a nightmare.

*Coming to get you.

You sigh with relief and fall onto the couch. He's coming to pick you up. You can go home, collapse on your bed, binge music and draw. Shut yourself in.

"wassup?"

You look up to the place the voice is coming from, to find Sans hovering above you from behind the sofa. Your shoulders relax a bit, and you feel a little more grounded. Sans' always made you feel frustrated, but it was a little comforting to be brought back to reality by his snarky grin.

"Brandon's coming to pick me up." You say, looking back down to your phone.

"oh." He plops himself next to you. You didn't look up at him.

"how's the arm?" he asks.

"The same as ever."

"really?" he cocks his head.

"Mhm."

...

...

"i'm sorry."

"Not sure what you're apologizing for, but I accept your apology." You say bluntly.

"can i see it?"

Your head whips around. Sans is looking at you with remorse.

_The fuck is going on in this guy's mind?_

"See it?"

He looks at your bruised arm, then up at you. He reaches slowly for your arm, as if he was waiting for you to flinch back. But you didn't, so he carefully lifts your arm and moves back your sleeve. You sit frozen still, not sure if you should resist him. For now you let it go. You feel too numb to care. 

He exposes half of your arm, showing part of the bruise. Yikes, it got worse. His expression is something between concern and guilt.

"my bad." He says, tracing his finger lightly down the bruise.

"You're right, it was your bad." You say sarcastically.

"no need to rub it in, girly."

He pull your sleeve over your palm, covering it again. That was a strange moment.

"I'll give your sweatshirt back... When I leave..." You mumble, twisting the sleeve. Sans shrugs and sits back.

"nah. you can have it. keep it warm for me." he winks. He's back to his same old self.

"I'll give it to my brother."

"i'll want it back eventually."

"Too bad." You shrug.

"HUMAN!!" Papyrus peeks his head from the hallway, "YOUR SIBLING UNIT IS HERE FOR YOU!!"

Grabbing your phone, you get up from the couch. Without turning around, you wave to Sans.

"See you around Sans."

"see ya girly."

You could feel his stare burning into your back as you walk towards the hallway to the door. There, Brandon was waiting, holding two grease-stained paper bags that smell like powdered sugar. He beams at you.

"Brought donuts."

"Thanks."

He takes your hand, and you two walk out the door.

"WAIT, YOU LITTLE PUNK!!"

Undyne hurls herself after you and buries you in a strangling sort of hug. You pat her back patiently and she loosens her grip a bit, giving you room for air.

"You tried to sneak away without saying goodbye." She growls.

"Well, I guess my sneaking power isn't over 9000... Unlike someone I know." You say. You hear Papyrus "nyeheh-ing" from the door.

"Yeah, yeah." Undyne snorts, "Thank god too. By the way," she smiles, "don't forget to text me."

"Mkay."

"I'm serious."

"'Kay."

"Hoooookay time to go." Brandon grabs your hand again and leads you to the car. "Thank you for having her over guys!"

"ANYTIME FRIEND!!" Papyrus shouts from inside.

"Thanks for letting me borrow her!" Undyne says, grinning. "Don't forget to text me, dammit!"

"Mkay."

"I'M SERIOUS!!"


	11. Realization #11 - Maybe... I Should Accept Comfort Once In a While.

The car pulls into the apartment complex parking lot, and Brandon parks it near the lobby. Grabbing the two donut bags, he opens the door and swings himself outside. You unbuckle your seatbelt, and attempt to open your door, but Brandon beats you to it. He opens it and steps aside. You wrinkle your nose at his weird behavior.

"I'm okay Brandon. I don't need to be babied." You frown.

He doesn't answer you, just smiles softly and holds out his hand. You grab it reluctantly, and he hoists you out of your seat and into the open air, then closes the door behind you. He opens one of the paper bags and hands you an old fashioned donut. Your favorite.

"I just wasn't feeling good. You don't have to do this." You say, nibbling a little on the pastry.

"I don't have to do anything." Brandon shrugs, "But I do it because I want to."

You scoff and roll your eyes at him, he can be so impossible sometimes. But not in an inconvenient or annoying way. Well, sometimes it's annoying, but it never got to your head. He smiles at your attitude.

"Now _that's_ my little sister." He says happily, grabbing your arm and leading you to the apartment. You both walk into the lobby, nod to the desk clerk, then go up the stairs. You rush up, anxious to get to your room. Brandon, still holding your arm, drags himself behind you. Eventually, you both reach the top of the stairwell. You head towards your apartment, expecting Brandon to split off and go to his, but he followed you to your door. Sighing, you turn to face him.

"Brandon. Listen to me. I'm a big girl, I can handle myself." You say lethargically.

"I know." He shrugs at you.

"Then why are you doing this?"

"Want another donut?"

You throw your hands in the air in frustration. Brandon just stands there, smiling at you. You turn around, open the door and walk into your room. You try and close the door behind you, but he stops it with his foot and walks in after you. You groan in disbelief.

"Totally unnecessary." You say, dumping your stuff on the ground.

"I'm not leaving you alone."

Brandon walks to you and ruffles your hair. You try your best to remain steely and serious, but you melt a little under his touch. The stress and anxiety from earlier today feels a little less burdening. So you stand there a bit, letting him completely mess up your hair in his attempt to make you feel better.

"Why don't you..." He leans down a bit to match eye level with you, "Relax for the rest of the weekend. Go on, sit on the couch. I can bring you what you want."

"I'm not going to have you serve me."

"Oh, do shut your pie-hole and let me spoil you." He says, pushing you towards the couch. You huff at him and plop yourself down on the cushions. You actually feel grateful that you're getting some extra lazy time, but you weren't gonna tell him that. You hunt your pockets for your iPod, plug in and start jamming to some Taylor Swift. You really need some extra upbeat music right now. You pull your legs onto the couch and lie down on the armrest and close your eyes, nuzzling your nose into your sweatshirt. Grillby's... Musk... It smells familiar and comforting. You remember briefly that the sweatshirt belongs to Sans, but you push the thought from your head. No need to give yourself confusing thoughts when you're so stable.

_This is much better. I'm okay now._

***

_"___________, listen to me. I didn't realize..."_

_"You slut!"_

_"Why are you ignoring me?"_

_"You just looked so good..._

_"Don't be a bitch."_

_"Well, MAYBE if you hadn't-"_

_"It's your fault this happened, not mine."_

_"You provoked me."_

_"You should be ashamed of yourself."_

**_"It's your fault."_ **

***

You gasp and jolt awake, forehead beading with sweat. You feel your heart pounding in your chest.

_Well shit._

This is the first nightmare you've had in a long time, and it was a pretty bad one too. You still hear the soft echoes of voices in your head, and you try desperately to silence them. It's crazy how your mind can just turn on you like that. Same goes for people. You rub your eyes and look around, trying to ground yourself back to reality. You're in your bed. Brandon must've carried you here after you dozed off on the couch, and he probably went to his own apartment afterwards. You look to the clock on your nightstand. It's 2:24 AM. No chance of you going back to sleep, so you peel off the sweaty bedcovers and get up, stretching. You walk to your dresser and change out of your damp clothes to put on a tank top and some fluffy sweatpants. You quickly examine your arm. The bruise faded from a blackish blue to a purple. That's good, right? You pick up the smelly clothes and toss them onto your bed. You really need to do the laundry...

_Should I wash Sans' sweatshirt? Hah, he wouldn't like the sweatiness, maybe I should just give it back..._

You stop yourself. Dammit--

_Sans, will you ever leave my fucking head? That'd be great._

You kick your bedpost and scoff angrily. Not only is he stuck in your mind, Sans is a riddle you just can't figure out. He irritates you more than anyone you have ever met, and that's saying something. He grins at you, teases you, makes a _complete_ fool out of you.

But then he turns around and drinks tea with you ands talks about nightmares... He gives you his sweatshirt to hide the bruise... And for these moments it seems like he cares. Then he goes back to being his regular sassy old self who drives you up the fucking wall. You shake your head.

_I'll wash it later._

For now, you walk into your livingroom, looking for a distraction. TV sounds nice. You've been wanting to continue Parks and Rec for a while now. You set yourself down on the sofa and reach for the remote, when you phone buzzed. You left it on the coffee table. You ignore it at first, not wanting to talk to anyone at the moment. Who would text you at 2 in the morning and expect you to respond? Undyne's furious expression pops into your head.

_Ehhh..._

You grab your phone. Surprisingly, it was Papyrus. Why is Papyrus up so early? The guy really likes his sleep. You open your texts:

***hey. you left quickly, and you seemed a little off. i was wondering what happened. so, what happened?**

_There's no emojis and no exclamation points. Is he worried?_

**-Hey, I'm okay. Just a little tired is all.**

***didn't expect such a quick response. what are you still doing up?**

**-I literally just woke up. Sometimes it happens, don't worry.**

***really? i don't think you're being totally truthful here**

_Wow, he's being strangely perceptive. I didn't seem that off-kilter... Did I say anything weird to him?_

**-Don't worry Papyrus! I'm doing fine. You should get back to sleep.**

***this is sans**

...

...

_What._

***you were awake last night too**

...

***are you ok**

**-I'm fine. Leave me alone.**

***no**

**-Why.**

***don't wanna**

**-That's not a reason.**

***not with that attitude it isn't**

**-You're an ass.**

***actually i'm a skeleton**

_THIS GUY._

**-Ass, skeleton, whale, I don't care what species you are. Go to sleep.**

***whale, i don't want to**

**-GOODNIGHT SANS**

You toss your phone beside you and reach for the remote again. You press power and the TV flickers to life. As you're browsing through shows your phone buzzes a few times. This time you ignore it. Sans is just bored, you don't have to entertain him. You keep flipping through shows, and something catches your eye.

_Sherlock? Hell yes._

You fucking love Sherlock. Seen each episode four or five times.

You press play, pause it, then go to the kitchen to get some coffee. You have many hours before the sun rises and you don't want to spend them being miserably tired. You turn on the stove and filled a tea kettle with water. After that has been set up, you dig through the cupboard for coffee. Nothing. You search the drawers. Nope. Sighing, you decide to settle for green tea. When the tea is ready, you head back to the couch. You phone buzzes again. You sit down and pick up your phone. There's no way Sans is still texting you, right?

***goodnight? it's morning**

Fifteen minutes later...

***ok really now, are you ok?**

Ten minutes later...

***coming over**

_Wait... What?_

***hey, what's your address?**

***nevermind undyne has it**

_WHAT?!_

***i'm getting coffee. what do you want?**

***ok, this is actually a serious matter i need you to respond**

***please tell me what you want, they have 34 different kinds of coffee this is just too much responsibility**

***i got you a chocolate coffee, i think. that was one of the most stressful moments of my life i hope you're proud**

You stare at your phone in disbelief. There's no way he's actually coming over right? He's just saying this to get you to respond. Your phone buzzes again.

***this elevator smells like mushrooms should i be concerned**

You snort/laugh to yourself. Is he trying to sound ridiculous? And another thing... He's here. He's here and he's coming to see you. Why on EARTH is he coming to see you?

You hear a knock on your door, and you hesitate. Should you let him in? You walk over and crack the door a bit, and there he was. Blue sweatshirt, frisbee shorts, slippers, wide smile... The whole deal. He was a ruffled and a little blue in the face, probably from the wind, and he's holding a cup holder with three coffees and a muffin stuffed in the forth holder. He makes eye contact with you and grins a little wider. 

"g'morning sunshine." he says, "it's a little early for you to be out, huh?"

"Is that your attempt at a sun pun?" You say, narrowing your eyes.

"i guess that was a strike out." He rocks back and forth on his heels, "i have coffee."

"And...?"

"and you should let me in, cuz i have coffee." He says matter-of-factly.

You roll your eyes and open the door all the way. Sans steps into your apartment and looks around.

"nice place." He comments, setting the coffee in the livingroom and plopping himself down on the couch.

"Thanks. Why are you here?" You fold your arms, standing directly in front of him.

"straight to the point? fine." He puts his arms behind his head and leans back. "i thought you might've missed me." he looks at you mischievously.

"Well... Surprise!" You do a little sarcastic jazz hands dance, "Didn't miss you."

"what are we watching?" He changes the subject, nodding to the TV.

_We?_

You're a taken aback a bit, you didn't think he was going to stay long.

"I was just about to start an episode of Sherlock..." You mutter, twisting the hem of your tank top. You may be okay with him stopping by and giving you coffee, but staying over... It seems a little out of the question. You also didn't want to kick him out, he got you coffee for god's sake. Even you have standards for how mean you could be.

"never heard of it."

You stop dead. 

_This is unacceptable._

This has to be fixed. 

It doesn't matter whether you want him here or not anymore, the fact that he has no idea what this show is changes your mind about kicking him out. You jump into the seat next to him and grab the remote. He looks a little shocked at your sudden energy.

"We're starting from the first episode."

"uh-"

"Shh shh don't talk. We're watching Sherlock," You putting a hand to his face. He's jolts a bit, blue rushing to his face, but you didn't really notice.

"Which one is mine?" You eye the coffees.

"can i talk now, or..." Sans says sarcastically, and you give him a 'no-shit' look, making him chuckle. "the two farthest from the muffin are yours."

"You got two for me?" You say gratefully, picking up one of the cups.

"they had a latte of selection. you wouldn't text me back, so i decided to buy two." He smiles, shrugging, "i wish you would espresso your preference, would've made my life a lot easier."

"But I didn't, and look what happened." You say triumphantly, "Now I have two coffees."

"touché."

***

Sans watched you beaming at the TV. Well, you weren't smiling, but you were glowing with anticipation to show him this show that you love. He thought it would take a lot more talking to convince you to let him stay, but then you changed your mind so quickly. It's little things like these that surprise him. You started talking about the show, explaining what it's about. He caught a few things you said, like 'Sherlock is a private police consultant' and how 'he's a high-functioning sociopath', but otherwise he didn't hear much. He was busy watching you talk. Your cheeks are tinged pink with excitement, and you're speaking with a lot of hand motions. Every so often you would flick a stray piece of hair off your bare shoulder.

_didn't expect it to go this well... she's so spontaneous._

Eventually you stopped talking and you look him straight in the eye.

"Okay, that's the basics. Start?" You ask expectantly.

He nods and you crack a soft smile. Now, Sans doesn't have a heart, but something inside him lurched when you looked at him like that.

_she's a hurricane._

The show starts, and your turn your attention to the TV. He does the same. The show was good, and he got into it pretty quick. Halfway through, he glances at you. Your mouth is hanging open slightly, knees pulled up to your chest, and you're gripping your coffee with both hands. You look mesmerized by what's happening on the screen. He turns away for a second, trying not to laugh. You tap his shoulder, and he turns back around. You're looking at him with a serious expression.

"This is one of the best parts." You nudge him and look back at the screen. Sans spreads his arm over the back of the couch. If he moved two inches he'd be holding your shoulders.

_wow._

You lean back a bit, and his hand brushes your shoulder.

_i have no idea what i'm doing anymore._


	12. Question #12 - Whose Job is it to Apologize?

The second episode ends. You turn off the TV, stretch and stand up. Looking at your phone, you see that it's 5 AM. You look to back to Sans, who's still lounging on the couch watching you closely. Now that you got him into Sherlock, you feel like your mission is complete. 

"You gotta go. My brother will freak if he finds you here." You set down your phone.

"yeah... about that." Sans gets up from the couch, "i need to talk to you."

_What now? He better not say some stupid shit._

"if you're struggling, you should let someone know."

_He said some stupid shit._

"What are you talking about." You say coolly, crossing your arms. You don't want things to get all personal with Sans. He may be Papyrus' brother, and you may be okay with helping him out a bit or small talk and a movie, but he's the LAST person you'd want to get personal with.

"nightmares. fear. paranoia." He shrugs, giving you an 'all-knowing' look that pisses you off.

"I think you should go." You turn to walk away, but you feel him pulling on your arm, holding you back. You look back at him, and he's looking at you with an expression you've didn't think he was capable of using. It was an unsmiling, rigid face that you know too well. You use this expression every day of your life. It's unsettling to see him this way.

"pushing people away won't help." He says seriously.

"You're wrong." You say coldly.

"am i?"

You stop dead. Is he wrong? He must be. You've never needed people. When you tried opening yourself up to them, you always... Always ended up disappointed and hurt. Once you cut off everyone, you got better. You still have bad days, days where you lock yourself in your room, nursing depression and other painful feelings. But that's the aftermath of broken trust. That's _their_ fault. Why take the chance of breaking trust, when you know that it'll break you? Even when you tell yourself these things, a little voice in the back of your head fills you with doubt.

"What do you know? You don't even know me." You say, voice cracking.

"i know that you can't walk amongst people without being scared." He says gripping your arm tighter, "i know that you have nightmares, and you some night you choose not to sleep to escape. i know how you use music to drown out your mind. i know you have a brave face, an aloof, steely attitude and a good soul. a great soul that few know about, because you keep close watch over it. i know more than you think, and i want to help." 

You feel the color drain from your face. How the _fuck_ would he know this? You feel as if you've been violated. He has no right to know about those things. He's edged himself into parts of you that you keep to yourself, parts that Brandon doesn't even know about. You feel absolutely infuriated.

"Leave."

"please, listen to me-"

"Who gave you the right..."

"___________, you have to-" He starts to say something, but you quickly cut him off.

"I don't have to fuckin' do anything!" You shout fiercely, tugging your arm from his hold. 

"You're such an asshole, poking your nose into things you won't understand. You're probably doing this because you have nothing better to do, right? You're bored. Well, it stops now. I don't want to see you ever again!!"

Without giving him a chance to respond, you drag him by his arm to the door and push him out. You slam the door and lean against it, closing your eyes. Twenty minutes ago, you were showing him one of your favorite TV shows. Now you never want to see him again. You fight back the ache inside you. Why can't he just mind his own business? You slide down the door and hug your legs to your chest. 

_It's better this way. It's better to be alone. I feel good now. I'm protected._

You repeat these words in your head over and over. Words like these are routine to you, and usually they bring you comfort. But this time they don't bring as much consolation as they usually do, because the little voice in the back of your head, the one you keep silenced, is telling you otherwise.

***

Your face lost all color, an expression of horror and anger came over it. In that brief moment, Sans knew he fucked up. He desperately tries to get you to listen, but you wouldn't hear. You tug him to the door, and he allows himself to be pushed out of it. The door slams in his face leaving him standing in the hall, hands in his pockets, wondering what the hell he should do. That escalated really quick. You even yelled at him...

He feels hurt. You pushed him out so easily. Weren't you guys a little closer than that? Among the hurt he's feeling, he feels worried. Because even though you're the person who pushed him out the door, he feels like he locked himself out.

_shit._

He scratches his skull and sighs. He turns away from your apartment and heads down to the lobby of the building. He wanted to open the door, apologize, make you listen to what he has to say. But there's no chance of you wanting to see him. Besides, if you yelled any more, Brandon would've come running, and that's a mess that he knows he couldn't get out of.

He shuffles past the lobby desk and out the front door, stepping into the cool winter air. He breathes in, breathes out, watching the clouds of his breath disappear and reappear.

_it hurts._

***

This morning Brandon stopped by to check up on you to find you passed out on the floor in front of your door. He shook you awake and asked you what happened, but you didn't respond. Your eyes were hazy, with dark circles under them, so of course Brandon panicked a little. He picked you up carefully and walked over to the couch. Setting you down, he kneels so he was eye to eye with you.

"Did have a nightmare?" He asks worriedly.

Slow nod.

"Okay, you're responding. Good, good." He sighs, running his hands through his hair.

Your eyes come into focus, and you see Brandon's face contorted with concern. You reach to him and grip his arm. He looks at your hand, then turns back to you and smiles weakly.

"Don't go all distant on me, girly." He says teasingly.

You give him a weak but defiant smile back.

"Not a chance."

***

"SANS, I MADE THIS SPAGHETTI WITHOUT THE SPECIAL INGREDIENTS JUST SO YOU WILL EAT IT!! SO... PLEASE EAT."

Papyrus holds a plate of spaghetti in front of Sans, who was sitting on the couch in the livingroom, eyes closed. He opens an eye and looks at Papyrus. He looks extremely concerned, in his own Papyrus sort of way. Sans' eye flits to the plate of spaghetti. There's no glitter... Or any other kind of art supplies from what he can tell. He opens both eyes and reaches an arm out, ready to receive the plate. Papyrus perks up a bit and gives him the spaghetti and a fork. As Sans twists the fork in the noodles and attempts to eat, Papyrus watching him anxiously.

"YOU'RE MOVING WAY LESS THAN USUAL TODAY."

Sans looks at Papyrus and then resumes eating his spaghetti.

"heh, am i?"

"YES. YOU'RE STARTING TO SOUND LIKE ___________."

Sans' insides twist into a knot, and he stops chewing.

_that does sound like something she'd say._

"don't mind me paps, just thinking a lot." He says, his voice muffled by the food in his mouth.

"DON'T TALK WITH YOUR MOUTH FULL!" Papyrus stomps his foot, and Sans chuckles.

"BUT-" He clears his throat, "YOU SHOULD TELL ME WHAT'S WRONG. I WANT TO HELP."

_heh. he always seems to know when i'm down._

Sans smiles at him gratefully, then shakes his head.

"i'll be okay, i just have to figure out some things."

"BROTHER, TRUST ME. I CAN HELP." Papyrus says earnestly, "MAYBE YOU JUST NEED A DIFFERENT PERSPECTIVE."

At this Sans considered telling him what's on his mind. What the heck, he'll give it a shot.

"paps... what would you do if i made you mad by being nosy?" He asks carefully.

"WELL," Papyrus looks extremely pleased that Sans asked him for advice, "I'D WANT YOU TO APOLOGIZE AND TELL ME THAT IT WAS WRONG OF YOU TO SNOOP. BUT I'D ALSO WANT YOU TO SAY THAT YOU'RE HERE FOR ME WHEN I NEED IT..." He says thoughtfully.

_wow. i know he's smart, but that was surprisingly mature._

Sans sinks back into the couch, holding the plate of spaghetti, and closes his eyes.

"thanks bro. i needed to hear that." He grins.

"GLAD TO HEAR IT." Papyrus smiles back and nods, "BY THE WAY, TINY HUMAN WANTS TO COME OVER NEXT WEEK. TORIEL WILL COME AS WELL."

"cool." Sans nods. 

"YES, IT'S VERY COOL." Papyrus turns and saunters to the hallway slowly. Sans watches him. Is Papyrus mimicking him? Once he turns the corner, Sans hears him yell "YES!!" and sprint up the stairs. Sans snorts into his spaghetti then throws his head back laughing. His brother is a total goof.

He calms down a bit and sighs. He wants to go apologize to you right now. He wants to teleport to your room and say he's sorry. But he reminds himself that he can't, he wants to wait until you're open to seeing him. He sets aside the now empty plate of spaghetti.

_how long will this take?_

***

_He's everywhere._

It's been four days, and you can't stop this ache in your chest. It's been there since the night you shouted at Sans, and no matter what, you can't distract yourself from your thoughts. You listen to the loudest, angriest music you have, but it doesn't stop you from thinking about that night. You go to Zoka and order a tall decaf latte, engage in small talk with Luke, and you can't stop thinking about him. You sit down on a sofa next to the cafe window and pull art supplies from your bag. You draw, paint, sketch, and somehow his worried face appears on your canvas. You're starting to fucking _draw_ him. You sit there for a while, not sure what to do.

And after some hard thinking, you realize you're feeling-

"Regret!" You jump up, pumped that you finally figure out what's going on in your mind. A man that was sitting a table away gives you a rather rude look. You frown slightly and raise one of your eyebrows at him as if to say 'What, you've never had a sudden realization before? Wanna fight?', and he quickly looks away.

_That's what I thought._

You sit back down, lean forward resting your elbows on your knees, propping your head on your hands. You feel like shit, and you kinda want to apologize. Yeah, he's an annoying asshole, but he brought you coffee in the middle of the night when he knew you were having trouble. He's not a bad person. You recognize that he was just trying to help, even if he's a nosy, sassy little shit. You cover your face with your hands. You said some pretty demeaning things, and made him sound like the bad guy. He's probably furious with you.

_I don't care. I want to apologize._

You made up your mind. You scramble up from your seat and pack up your stuff. The bus you take will be here in five minutes, but you want to get something first. Throwing your bag over your shoulder, you shuffle to the counter. Luke was busy cleaning the espresso machine.

"Luke, Luke!" You call to him, "Do you guys have any ketchup?"


	13. Bonus #13 - Friends and Brothers Are Starting To Suspect...

_So... Bored..._

Papyrus, Mettaton, Alphys and I decided to meet up at ___________'s favorite coffee place to hang out, but for some reason everyone brought BOOKS. When I asked why the hell they're reading, they said that the plan was a study session, not a hangout. 

_I DID NOT SIGN UP FOR THIS SHIT._

I'm literally the only one sitting around, doing nothing. Papyrus brought a picture book, even _Mettaton_ brought a book on modeling tactics. Humiliating. We're sitting around this table right next to the door. I could just walk out right now, but Alphys is here and I was kinda hoping I could somehow... Ya know, get her out of here... With me... 

...

ANYWAYS--

Everyone is deep in their work, even if it isn't work. They're just... _deep._ Nobody is talking, and it's boring as hell. Earlier I tried to peek over Alphys' shoulder and see what the fuss it all about with this whole 'reading' deal. The book's title is 'Human Physiology: Second Edition'. The words are so tiny, and there aren't any pictures. Why the fuck would you read a book with no pictures?! It totally defeats the purpose of looking at it in the first place. I sigh exasperatedly and prod her leg with my foot, trying to get her attention. She jolts and looks up from her reading. 

_Nnnnhg, she's blushing. Too cute._

"W-what's up Undyne?"

_Oh shit._

_I don't really have a reason for interrupting her._

_Think think think-_

"Uhm... I was gonna go get something to eat, want anything?"

_Good. Good, that was good. Good save._

"Oh, uh, i-if it isn't too much trouble..."

"It's not." I say quickly. She blushes a little more, her mouth crinkling a bit while she stutters. 

_Oh my god, I wanna--_

"A hot cocoa p-please." She squeaks, interrupting my thoughts.

"Coming right up, milady." I grin at her.

Her face looks like a tomato. A bright red, adorable, squishy tomato that I don't want to smash.

_Well maybe I do... But not in the destructive way._

I feel heat rush to my face. Shame. Shame on me. I shake my head and stumble up from my seat. Alphys turns her head and buries her face in her book again, but the redness is still visible from her ears. Something is fluttering in my stomach, and I'm not sure how I feel about it. Grabbing my wallet, I walk to the counter and wave my hand to call for Luke's attention. He's busy restocking pastries.

"Be there in a minute!" He calls back to me.

I lean forward onto the counter and fiddle with the pens they use to sign receipts, and my mind starts to wander. Alphys, books, food, tomatoes, Alphys, vegetables, cooking, spaghetti, Papyrus... Then my thoughts take a more sudden turn.

_What's up with Sans lately?_

He's been acting strangely. He's been disappearing a lot, and spacing out more. When ___________ came over I saw a whole different side of him. A _weird_ side of him. He was teasing her, but not in the way he teases Papyrus or anyone else. He teased her with some purpose. I'm not sure what, but the more I think about it the more confusing it is. I remember he asking me how I met her, and when I asked him why he wants to know he just shrugged and lumbered off in his own, lazy way. 

A few days after that he seemed depressed. 

He thinks he's fooling everyone with his no-good smug 'lil smile, but I can tell.

Does it have anything to do with ___________? I can rarely tell with her, especially when she's distant. But god, I love that girl. She's so blunt, and pretty fuckin' hardcore. I was at Grillby's a while ago, and literally everyone was talking about how she told off a wasted couple at the bar. After hearing that story, of course it's only natural that I become best friends with her. I wonder if we are best friends. Like I said, it's hard to tell. Whenever we're in public or with a group of people, she has this 'I really don't care that you care' look on her face. But when we're chilling at my place, it's the exact opposite. She cares a lot, even though she tries her best to hide it. 

I remember one day we were talking about human politics, and I brought up this dude called Donald Trump. Oh my GOD I wish I recorded her reaction. Her face wrinkled with disgust and she went on a full blown rant on how he shouldn't be classified as a politician. After she was done she said, _"So basically, if he was on fire and I had some water... I'd probably drink it."_

She also said that she'd totally beat him up while she attempted to crack her knuckles.

The thought of her beating up someone cracks me up. She's so small, barely any muscle. She's an artist for fucks sake, the only workout she gets is picking up a pencil. And walking up those ridiculously long staircase to her apartment. I throw my head back laughing just thinking about it.

"Uh-"

I jerk my head back down and stand up straight. Luke's standing in front of me, and he's giving me a look. The 'I'm not sure what that laugh was about and I don't really want to know' look.

"Sorry." I scratch my head awkwardly.

"No prob. Must've been a funny thought." He shrugs, "What would you like?"

"A grande hot cocoa, a short espresso, and two mozzarella tomato sandwiches, toasted."

Luke punches a few buttons on the cash register and brings up my total.

"Will that be all?" He asks.

Before I say yes, the jumbo double chocolate chip cookies catch my eye.

"Four of those giant cookies." I nod towards the pastries, "That's all."

I pay Luke for the food, and tip him four dollars. He gives me a grateful look and hands me the cookies in a small paper bag. He tells me that the drinks and sandwiches will take a while, so I head back to the table. Everyone is still immersed in their books.

"Hey nerds." I say loudly, getting their attention, "I brought grub."

Everyone perks up, except for Papyrus.

"NO THANK YOU UNDYNE, I'M NOT INTERESTED IN LARVAE." He says, turning back to his oh-so-interesting picture book.

"It's an expression. I bought cookies." I roll my eyes, tossing the paper bag on the table. Thank god, they all puts down their books and grab their cookies from the bag. I plop myself down next to Alphys and grab mine. I nibble a little on the edge and glance at everyone. They seem to be talking about what they're working on. Would now be a good time to-

"Do any of you know why Sans is acting weird?" I blurt out.

_Shit. My mouth moves faster than my brain._

Papyrus freezes mid-chew and looks at me. I can't really read his expression.

"YOU NOTICED TOO?" He asks me, a hint of concern on his face.

"Yeah. Kinda." I shrug.

"Yesterday I told him that his sense of fashion is absolutely _devastating,_ " Mettaton sighs, "and he didn't even sass me. It felt so wrong."

"H-he did seem a little off earlier... I needed to borrow a book of his. I found him on a c-couch in the livingroom. W-when I asked him for the book h-he told me I could just go into his room and t-take it." Alphys takes a small bite of her cookie, "H-he never let's me into his room."

"HE DOESN'T LET ANYONE IN HIS ROOM." Papyrus sighs, "I THINK THIS HAS TO DO WITH ___________."

"How so darling?" Mettaton asks, putting a finger to his chin thoughtfully.

"A WEEK AGO, HE LEFT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT WITH MY PHONE." Papyrus shakes his head. "WHEN I LOOKED AT MY TEXTS IN THE MORNING, I SAW THAT HE WAS TALKING TO HER. SHE WAS HAVING A BAD TIME AND HE BROUGHT HER COFFEE."

I choke on my cookie.

"He brought her COFFEE?" I ask shocked, "Since when does he bring anything for anyone?"

"I KNOW!!!???" Papyrus agrees, completely puzzled.

Everyone perks up and chatters about what this could possibly be about. Sans rarely takes interest in anything, let alone a person. I bring up a few suggestions, such as aliens, apocalypse, and plumbing issues. All my ideas are turned down. I grumble and sit back, watching everyone else do the talking. As I look around, I notice Mettaton isn't really saying anything. In fact, he seems a little shifty. Does he know something? If he knows something about ___________ that I don't I'm gonna be severely pissed. I'm her best friend, there's no fuckin way this robot's gonna beat me to it.

_I'm her best friend._

Those words fill me with some sort of... warmth. Hm.

"Two mozzarella sandwiches, one hot cocoa and an espresso for Undyne!" I hear Luke call, snapping me out of my thoughts.

_Whatever. I'll figure it out. And if I don't, I'll beat the answers out of that prissy robot._

I smile to myself and jog over to the counter for the food.

***

_She's acting weird._

___________ has been going on walks a lot. Whenever I ask where she's going, she just tells me "places" and leaves. I'm not concerned at all... Except that I'm very extremely concerned. Why would she go on walks? ___________ avoids being in public when she can. Walking is reserved for nighttime, when nothing is out except the stars. And when that happens she usually invites me. On top of her disappearing randomly, she hasn't been listening to music. I haven't caught her dancing in the kitchen to Arctic Monkeys all week, and that's almost a nightly ritual for her. I miss those nightly rituals.

Plus, she's been in an really uncooperative mood. Even when I beg her, puppydog eyes and all, she refuses to go to Grillby's with me. I ask her if she wants me to pick up sushi for her when I'm off of work, and she said no. She said _no._

_She said no to free food._

Something is definitely going on, but whenever I try and subtly bring up her strange behavior, she always finds a way to change the subject. This is the most frustrated I've been with her in a long time.

Since I'm not getting anything out of her, I went to go ask Grillby if he knew anything. He told didn't know much, but he did mention that Sans hasn't been coming in as much for the past week. So, that may be something. Later I texted Undyne, and she told me she hasn't seen her around, and she's not responding to texts as much as she wants her to. But besides that, she didn't really know.

But she did mention briefly that Sans has been acting weird. So that's two people who link her weirdness to "b-man".

...

_I'm a little scared._

Scared because I don't know what's going on. I used to make it my business to know what's happening with her, but she snapped at me when she found out I was involving myself too much. From then on I tried to stay at a safe distance. I tried not to be paranoid. I tried to make sure that I was only there when she wanted me. God, I really do try, but it's so hard. I'm her brother. I want to protect her, but there's only so much I can do, you know?.

I just have to trust that she'll come to me when she needs help.

I'll just stand here, smiling, waiting for her to come my way and tell me what's happening.

...

Maybe I'm just being paranoid.

She's probably okay.

Yeah, she's fine.

...

_But I can never be too careful._


	14. Rule #14 - Apologies Are a Two-Way Deal.

You clutch your messenger bag close to your chest as the bus rolls over speed bumps. The driver didn't seem to care that he was practically flying over the bumps. You consider telling him to slow down, but then you decide to keep it to yourself. The faster he's going the faster you'll be at the skelebro's place. You lean back and look out the window, watching the buildings whizz by in a blur. You made up your mind to apologize first, but you can't help but want to turn back around and just leave it alone. But you somehow know that if you do leave it alone, it's going to eat at you more and more until you feel disgusted with yourself. Why? You don't know.

_Uhg. It's his fault I'm feeling so fucking weird._

You've never acted this way with anyone before, except maybe Brandon. So why now?

"Next stop, Campus Parkway." A robotic voice comes on the bus speakers, interrupting your thoughts. You stand up, clutching the railing above you for support as you watch the bus approach the skeletons' neighborhood. The bus jolts to a stop outside a rinky-dink grocery mart and you step out onto the sidewalk. You stand there and watch as the bus rolls away again, and you're tempted to chase after it. But before you could change your mind, you run. 

You run down the street, down to Sans' place in fear that you'll lose your motivation to apologize. As you approach the house you speed up even more.

_Just get it over with._

You huff and rush up to the door to ring the doorbell.

***

Sans is sitting on the couch again, trying to motivate himself to do something. No luck. He hasn't moved in a day or two, except when Papyrus begs him to do something. Even then, his brother's enthusiasm doesn't motivate him as much as it did before the fight. He thinks of you again. He gets the sudden urge to see you for the second time this morning, but shoves it down, telling himself to wait a little longer.

_i should really do something though._

With great effort he heaves himself off the couch.

_maybe i'll go outside for a bit._

"i'm going for a walk paps, don't wait up for dinner." Sans calls to the kitchen. Papyrus peeks his head around the corner, obviously relieved that Sans is moving a bit.

"ARE YOU SURE YOU DON'T WANT FOOD?"

"yeah i'm good. i'll be back." Sans slips on his sweatshirt and heads for the door... Then the doorbell rings. Who could be visiting this early? He tiptoes a bit to look through the peephole in the door.

_she's here._

You're standing right outside their house. His stands there for a second, processing what's happening. Why are you here? You're mad at him. He knows you're mad at him. This feels so surreal. He looks out the hole again, and there you still are, growing increasingly restless. You're rocking back and forth on your heels, hands behind your back, waiting for him to answer. Your face looks pink and your hair is everywhere. It looks like you ran here. Not sure what to think, Sans opens the door.

You both make eye contact, and a slight look of guilt comes over your face.

_does she feel bad?_

Sans opens his mouth to say something, but you put a hand up to his face.

"Don't." You breathe heavily, "Don't say anything until I'm finished."

He freezes, and you take a deep breath.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why, but I'm really sorry." Your head drops a bit, your hand still in his face, "After I pushed you out of my apartment that night, I felt like crap. I've felt like crap ever since."

_am i really hearing this?_

"You're really freakin' nosy, you know that right? But that doesn't justify what I said and I'm sorry." You ramble quickly, "I do this all the time, I talk and talk, I say crap I don't mean, and I've never felt so bad about it until now. I wish I didn't say crap and I wish you could just tell me to shut up--"

"shut up."

You shut up. You've never heard him say anything like that before... It's a little off-putting. He's looking at you like you're the most bizarre thing he's ever seen. He grabs your hand and gently pushes it away from his face.

"that..." He says slowly, "was the weirdest apology i have ever heard."

You give him a black look and fold your arms.

"Well, I never asked you to accept it." You say angrily.

"you just made it twice as weird." He chuckles as you turn around. He grabs your arm before you can walk away.

"i'm sorry too."

Now it's your turn to look at him weirdly.

"Wha--"

"shut up. my turn." He says softly, pulling you close, "i've been a nosy idiot. i'm sorry. i should've stayed out of your business."

You freeze, still staring at him strangely.

_is she... taking me seriously?_

"It's okay."

_she is. cool._

"So, um..." You look at his hand, "Will you be staying out of my business now?"

Sans apologetic look melts away and is replaced with a snarky grin.

"probably not."

You look absolutely done with him. You break free from his grip and stomp off in frustration, leaving him standing at the doorway grinning smugly. He laughs a bit to himself, feeling like that conversation went very well. He turns around to go back inside, but he saw something from the corner of his eye. He looks around to see you striding back towards him. Your face is flushed pink, cheeks puffing out a bit. As you get closer, you kinda look as if you would punch him in the face, which threw Sans off a bit.

"hey, what're y--"

You dig your hand into your messenger bag and pull out a bottle of ketchup.

_what...?_

You snatch his arm up and thrust the bottle into his hand, your face getting progressively redder. You don't look at him in the eye, and thank god too, because if you did you would've seen that he was barely holding himself back from falling on the ground laughing. You turn around again and run down the street to the bus stop.

Sans stands there, clutching the bottle of ketchup. His shoulders are shaking with laughter.

"SANS, WHY ARE YOU STANDING AT THE DOOR? YOU'RE LETTING IN ALL THE COLD-" Papyrus walks down the hallway holding a spatula and wearing a purple apron. Sans turns to Papyrus, holding the ketchup to his chest. Papyrus' face lights up.

"BROTHER, DID SOMETHING GOOD HAPPEN??" Papyrus smiles widely, "YOUR FACE IS ALL BLUE."

_i'm so happy._

"BROTHER???" Papyrus' happiness turns to confusion as Sans doesn't respond.

"i dunno."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FLUFFFLUFFFLUFFFLUFFFLUFFFLUFFFLUFFFLUFFFLUFFFLUFFFLUFFFLUFFFLUFFFLUFFFLUFFFLUFFFLUFFFLUFFFLUFFFLUFF


	15. Rule #15 - If Your Friend Offers You Free Booze, It Must Be a Good Idea.

"GOD FUCKING DAMMIT SON OF A MOTHER SHITTING BI--"

Undyne shrieks as she throws her Wii controller to the ground. You look at her impassively, the corner of your mouth tilted slightly upward just to piss her off. You both are at her apartment, playing Mariokart. After Papyrus' sleepover she challenged you to another race, which you had no choice but to accept. Her pride was on the line there, and she wasn't going to let you get away with winning every time you played. So here you are, sitting on her little green couch in front of her TV that flashed **Congratulations, you got first place!** , Undyne directly beside you and wildly shouting all kinds of profanities at the screen. She lost to you for the third time today, and you showed off by slowing down near the finish line just before you crossed it, making the defeat even worse for her.

"That was fun." You yawn, shooting her a smug look. She glowers at you as you lazily lean back into the couch.

"Do you want to die?" She snarls, but it's the kind of snarl that you know she's doing in affection.

"No. I like making you lose too much, no way I'd give up life. You should see how angry you look." You remark, "It's pretty great."

"How about I tickle you?!" She threatens, "Let's see who's all 'high-and-mighty' then, huh?!"

Your face pales a bit.

"How about... No?" You furtively look away. Undyne grins broadly and sinks into her seat.

"That's what I thought." She snorts. Her phone buzzes next to her. When she picks it up and scrolls through her messages, she sighs deeply.

"Gimme a sec, group chat shenanigans." She says in a bored tone.

"M'kay." You respond, turning your attention to the TV.

As Undyne taps away at her phone, you start a singleplayer Grand Prix race for yourself. You've already gotten all gold medals on all the levels. But everyone knows you don't play it for the glory...

_I play it for the GORE._

"Get DUNKED Waluigi!" You jump up in excitement when your red shell demolishes the purple goblin's kart as you zip by him. First place again.

"Did you seriously just say 'get dunked'?" Undyne looks up from her phone, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Yeah. Why?" You sit back, satisfied smirk on your face.

"No reason." She tosses her phone aside. You grunt as she throws her legs over your lap, her head on the armrest of the couch.

"So..." She says slowly, "There's this thing... That's happening..."

"Uh oh." Your grin slips. You know somethings up when Undyne starts acting all shifty.

"It's a good thing!" She says quickly.

"I don't want to know." You look at the ceiling.

"Hear me out?" She puffs out her cheeks, "Please?"

You glance at her. When you see the pathetic puppy look she's giving you, you groan.

"Fine."

"Cool." She relaxes, "So Grillby is throwing this party--"

"No."

"You didn't even let me finish!" She yells, throwing her hands in the air exasperatedly.

"Sorry." You say sheepishly, "Parties are an immediate no from me."

"Name one thing that ISN'T an immediate no from you." Undyne glares at you, and you chuckle lightly.

"You got me." You poke at her leg and she squirms a bit.

"Hah, but really now." She sighs, "Please come. Everyone will be there, including..." She pauses, blushing.

"...Napstablook?" You say giving her a smug look.

"I WILL HIT YOU SO HARD IT'LL MAKE YOUR GRANDCHILDREN DIZZY!" Undyne screams, her face burning bright red.

_She's so cute when she's in love._

"Cool. I'm not going though." You frown slightly, "You know I'm not a people person."

"I know, I know, but I need you there! You're my wingman. Plus, there's a few people I want you to meet." She smiles, "Frisk, Toriel, Asgore, Muffet--"

"Whoa whoa whoa. Hold up." You put a hand up, "Toriel? Asgore? As in the king and queen of the Underground?"

"...Yes......?"

"Okay." You put your hand down, "Not happening."

"You'll only have to talk to them for about two minutes." She negotiates, "I promise you, they aren't the 'Your Highness' type of royalty."

You think for a second, then sigh.

"Fine."

"Hell yeah! You can stick next to me if you want. Don't have to talk to anybody, and if someone bugs you, I'll cave their face in." Undyne gives you a toothy grin, then falters.

...

...

"Did you forget to mention something?" You ask dryly.

"N-no!" She wrings her hands a little, "I was just going to tell you that..."

She pauses, then looks at you hopefully.

"Do you have a dress?"

"Aw, fuck no." You shake your head, "I will NOT dress up. I mean look at me!"

You gesture to your clothes, which in your mind were perfect, but others might think otherwise. Grey sweatshirt, pastel pink pajama pants, compact hiking boots... It was every fashionista's nightmare.

"I'll take you shopping. We're getting a dress." Undyne offers, "I need one too, mine has scorch marks in it."

"Of course it does." You roll your eyes. "And no."

Undyne grabs your hands in a panicky sort of manner. Startled, you started taking her a little more seriously.

"Please."

You hesitate.

"No."

"All drinks are on me."

_Oh lord. That did it._

...

...

"I'll go."


	16. realization #16 - this girl is too charming for her own good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _i've never really... been interested in someone before._
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _not like this._
> 
>  
> 
> _hm? toriel?_
> 
>  
> 
> _nah, she's a pun pal. nothing more than that._
> 
>  
> 
> _yeah... ever since the night at pap's slumber party,_
> 
>  
> 
> _i've been feeling strange._
> 
>  
> 
> _she drives me crazy, sometimes in a bad way. she also calms me in a way nobody can. what? oh, you're asking the wrong person. i don't know why she has these effects on me._
> 
>  
> 
> _feelings are weird, kid. don't question it._
> 
>  
> 
> _anyways... i think about her a lot. i want to see her. i want to hold her heart in both hands._
> 
>  
> 
> _i know i can't. she's not ready, not yet._
> 
>  
> 
> _why isn't she?_
> 
>  
> 
> _a lot of reasons, kid. but she's getting better. just like me, see?_
> 
>  
> 
> _yeah._
> 
>  
> 
> _does she like me?_
> 
>  
> 
> _i'm sure she does. she doesn't want to admit it. she's too cute..._
> 
>  
> 
> _you interested? too bad kid, i got my name on her._
> 
>  
> 
> _heh, kidding, kidding! don't tackle me ya freak._
> 
>  
> 
> _huh?_
> 
>  
> 
> _you can meet her tonight, if you want._
> 
>  
> 
> _you would? cool. i think you'd like her._
> 
>  
> 
> _hm? you want what now?_
> 
>  
> 
> _you want me to carry you? on my shoulders?_
> 
>  
> 
> _heh, sure thing kiddo._

"Darling! We're leaving!"

"I'll be there in a minute!" You call back to Mettaton, who was waiting impatiently at your doorway. You look in the mirror one last time and scowl at your reflection.

_This party better have some kick-ass refreshments._

You didn't look like yourself. Well, your face looks like you, but that's the part of you can recognize. Your hair is up in an elegant yet uncomfortable ponytail instead of down your back flying wherever it pleases. You're wearing a dress Undyne picked out for you yesterday, because she said that she'd pay for it. You weren't sure if that was your best idea. It's a strapless, layered white dress hinted with a shade of pink. It ends a few inches above your knees, and you have a grey jean jacket with lots of pockets to go with it. This is a dramatic change from sweatpants, t-shirts, and tennis shoes. You aren't really sure how to feel about this change.

You twirl in the mirror, watching the ruffles of your dress fly around you. It's so light, and it airily falls back to your knees.

_I feel... Girly._

"___________! I'll drag you out of that room if I have to, darling!" Mettaton yells.

"Calm your bolts, MTT!" You shout back, "I'm coming."

You slip on a pair of your navy blue pumps and walk out into the livingroom. Mettaton gasps when he sees you.

"Oh honey!" He purrs, "You look absolutely ravishing."

"Stop talking or I'll shove a sock in your throat." You blush, looking at your feet. Mettaton simply laughs at your threat.

"Of course you will." He winks at you, "Greatest apologies, my lady."

_Great. At this rate, nobody will take me seriously anymore._

You stop by the kitchen and open the refrigerator. You made an industrial amount of eggless chocolate chip cookie dough for the party. It was mostly for you, you could eat buckets of the stuff. You pull out the massive ceramic bowl filled with bite-sized cookie dough and walk back to the door where Mettaton was waiting. When he sees the bowl, he raises an eyebrow but doesn't question it.

You follow him out the door, locking it behind you and head downstairs. As you're walking towards the lobby, Mettaton was rambling about how magnificent the party will be. You can barely keep up with what he's saying, and his walking. Seriously, his legs are so long, his walking strides would put models to shame.

"All my close friends and fans will be there," He gushes, "and I want to introduce you to all of them."

"How about no?" You quicken your pace to match speeds with him, "I'd rather stick with Undyne, or maybe Papyrus." 

He gives you a pained look.

"...And you. I'd stick next to you." You mumble.

"Sweetheart." He sighs, "Look at yourself. You've made so much progress. You're friends with Me, Undyne, Alphys, Papyrus, Sans--"

"--Sans is not a friend." You interject. Mettaton waves that statement off.

"What I'm trying to say..." He clears his throat, "Is that people are not as twisted as you think."

You stop walking, and Mettaton does the same. You're taken aback, you didn't expect a serious lecture from him.

"I'm sorry." He lowers his head apologetically, "I'm really, truly sorry. It was none of my business..."

"It's fine." You shrug, "This isn't the first time I've been lectured."

"I'm not talking about that."

Mettaton looks at you in a way that made you _extremely_ uncomfortable. It wasn't a look of pity. It was a look of understanding. You weren't sure which one would be worse. 

There's no doubt he's talking about the incident at Papyrus' slumber party. You thought you two were good by now, but apparently not, judging by the way he's acting now. It wasn't that big of a deal, was it? He just touched your chest, and you had a nightmare, right? Unless... He looked into your mind, or something like that. Even if he did, you weren't necessarily bothered by it. It was an unsettling thought, but not much more than that. You look at Mettaton, expecting an explanation.

"I saw your soul that day."

_My... soul?_

You must've looked confused, because he started to clarify what he meant.

"Monsters have magic. I'm sure you know that." He explains, "Some have stronger, more potent amounts of magic within them, usually passed down from their parents. But I'm a machine. My creator is about the closest thing I have to parent, and she happened to be the the Royal Scientist."

_Royal Scientist? Why does that sound familiar..._

"She had access to copious amounts of magic, so when she was planning my body, she was very generous with the power she gave it." He says slowly, "I have abilities that very few monsters possess. One of them is to see, feel, and expose one's soul temporarily."

He stops there and let's that sink in. The bowl of cookie dough feels heavier in your arm. 

_So he did see into my mind. Sort of. I was close enough._

"Needless to say, when I opened your soul, I 'stepped into your shoes'. I could feel what it's like to have your soul." He smiles weakly, "And darling, it was painful."

_Oh jeez._

"I made a mistake, and I hope you accept my apology. I'm sorry, and--"

"Dude, shut up."

Startled, he stops talking. He looks a bit hurt. 

You take a deep breath, preparing your rant for him.

"I already forgave you a long time ago. Everyone has done stupid shit before, and the stupid shit you did isn't a big deal in my book." You shrug, "So stop apologizing. I don't mind that you saw my soul. I'm happy it was you and not anybody else. Are you getting what I'm saying?" You ask him, because he's giving you such a quizzical look that you wonder if anything you're saying is getting through to him. He nods yes, and you continue.

"Good." You say in a satisfied sort of way, "Now stop apologizing, or I really won't forgive you."

His quizzical look melts off his face and is replaced with a small smile.

"___________..." He says softly, "You may seem like a prickly person..."

"But really you're one huge softy!" His smile broadens.

_OH JEEZ._

"I changed my mind, forgiveness is a horrible idea." You groan.

"This is great!" He teases you, "Now I can tell everyone what a nice person you are!"

"This just keeps getting worse and worse." You rub your forehead in frustration.

"Now then," He offers you his hand, still grinning like a maniac, "shall we depart? I'm sure everyone is waiting for us."

You eye his outstretched hand hesitantly and slowly reach for it with your free hand. Once he has you in his grasp, he squeezes your hand and leads you out the front door to his--

_Limo. God. He has a limo._

You see the silhouettes of Undyne and Alphys through the tinted windows of the backseat. Undyne rolls down the a window and leans out of it.

"What took you guys so long?" She snarls impatiently, "___________ wasn't being difficult, was she?"

"Ah, yes." Mettaton moans dramatically, "I apologize for the wait, I could barely drag her from her apartment."

"Guys, I'm right here." You say, flushing.

Mettaton chuckles and opens one of the back doors, politely gesturing you in. You carefully clutch onto the bowl of cookie dough and step into the limo. Damn, it's spacey. White leather seats that face each other, small cocktail table, wide windows... You could live in here if you wanted to. As you're gaping at your surroundings, Undyne ushers you to the seat next to her. Alphys was on her other side, and Mettaton sat down right across from you. He turns his head to the driver and gives him the all-clear to leave. Once you're moving, Mettaton crosses his legs and turns to face you.

"So." He says, cocking his head.

"So." You lean back and give him an equally sassy look.

"I'm very curious." He smiles wickedly.

"Really now?" You say sarcastically.

"Yes. And I've been curious to know," He says, leaning forward, "If you and Sans aren't friends, what are you to each other?"

***

You after Mettaton, Alphys, and Undyne exit the car, you quickly follow. Mettaton tried to offer his hand to help you out, but you refused. You both just had a heated discussion over your relationship with Sans, if you can even call it a relationship. The 'discussion' was mostly you shouting profanities at him while he teased you. Once you're outside, you grab the bowl of cookie dough from the seat and close the door.

As you look around, your heart skips a beat. Grillby's is... Really pretty.

_They really cleaned up the place._

Twinkling lights are hung in every possible place, giving a magical effect to the atmosphere. A few paper lanterns were hung from a wooden arch that was pitched near the doorway. From the window you could see dark red curtains, and a _lot_ of people. Your stomach does a backflip, and you consider running off. But before you could give the thought any serious consideration, Undyne grabs your hand and drags you to the doorway. Alphys watches you both, and she looks like she wants to protest against Undyne's forceful 'encouragement'. You shoot her a look that says 'It's fine', and she smiles faintly and nods.

Mettaton opens the door and you all walk in. Everyone cheers a greeting when they see Mettaton, Alphys and Undyne, and a few people surround them, asking how they are, what's been going on with them, etc.

You stand between Mettaton and Undyne, introducing yourself and saying flattering things to whoever seemed a little shy towards you. A smaller monster named Woshua seemed to be quite taken with you, he kept dancing around you squeaking something that sounded like, "Clean! Clean! So clean!". Undyne had to chase him away.

A much larger monster named Aaron introduced him to you, and before you could even mention your name, he challenged you to a flexing contest. You know deep in your heart you aren't very strong, but you never step down from a challenge, so of course you accepted. It was a strange contest. A minute into it he flexed himself out of the room. You decide to shrug it off, this most likely won't be the strangest thing that will happen tonight.

After about ten minutes of small talk and introductions, you felt your nerves calm down a little. You felt more comfortable with the people surrounding you.

And then the royalty came.

"Undyne," A monstrous goat-like monster rumbled as he walks towards the group, "It's good to see you again."

You freeze up. You know he isn't talking to you, that doesn't change the fact that he's incredibly intimidating.

"ASGORE!" Undyne shouts excitedly, "It's been so long! I've missed you bud!" She runs to meet him, and you slowly follow her. You were receiving a few odd looks from some monsters, and you didn't feel entirely comfortable standing with Alphys, who was busy chatting it up with Mettaton.

"It really has been a while." Asgore chuckles thoughtfully. He catches eyes with you, and you fight the urge to look away from his gaze.

"Who is this pretty young human?" He smiles at you, and you feel a warmth inside you. His aura was a lot less intimidating now.

"This is my friend, ___________! ___________, this is King Asgore. He was my employer and friend in the Underground." Undyne grabs your shoulders and puffs out her chest proudly. Asgore's smile widens a little at her affectionate gesture.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, ___________." He nods his head at you.

"Likewise." You say carefully. You aren't sure if you were being rude or not.

_Should I call him your majesty?_

Asgore answers you as if he was reading your thoughts.

"Oh, don't be afraid to just call me Asgore. Honorifics are quite a bother when it comes to friends." He laughs lightly.

"Thank you for clarifying... Asgore." You smile politely.

"I agree, the whole 'your majesty' deal makes me feel distant from others." You hear a voice next to you. Surprised, you turn your head to see one of the most beautiful, motherly looking monsters you've ever seen. She smiles warmly at you, and you feel like you've just been covered with a warm blanket. Was that magic, or just her?

"Hello, my name is Toriel." She nods at you the same way Asgore did, "It's very nice to meet you."

"Uhm..." You say in a daze, "It's nice to m-meet you too..." 

She laughs softly at your shyness.

"You're too precious." She looks down at the bowl you're holding. It didn't occur to you that you haven't set it down, and now that you noticed, you realize how much your arms ache.

"Hold on." You say apologetically and rush over to the nearest table to set it down. Once you do so, you walk back and find that Papyrus and Alphys have joined in the conversation. Papyrus catches eyes with you, and his face lights up like a Christmas tree.

"___________!!" He grins, waving you over, "C'MERE! WE WERE JUST TALKING ABOUT YOU!!"

"Really now?" You say, edging yourself into the little circle they had formed.

"REALLY!!" Papyrus says happily, "EVERYONE WANTS TO KNOW HOW YOU MET US."

"It's a really interesting story." Undyne whispers to Asgore, and raises an eyebrow to you.

"How did you meet them, ___________?" He asks curiously. Papyrus eagerly waits for you to say something, and you pretend to think for a second.

"I don't remember, how did we meet Papyrus?" You feign ignorance, and he stomps his foot in frustration.

"HOW COULD YOU NOT REMEMBER??" He exclaims, "THE WHOLE GARBAGE CLEANING UP THING IS A HUGE DEAL!!"

Warmth spreads through your heart at these words. Did Papyrus really think of your encounter with him as 'special'?

"I'm just messing with you." You smile at him, and he groans.

_What?_

Toriel is giggling and Asgore chuckles a bit. Undyne looks almost as confused as you feel.

"___________, was that a garbage pun?" Toriel laughs.

_Oh no..._

"If you did, that was pretty good." She laughs a little harder, "'Messing with you'. You know, you remind me of someone."

_I better not._

"Do I?" You ask weakly.

"does she?"

You jump. Someone's right behind you.

_If it is who I think it is, someone's gonna die._

But of course you know it is, who else would sneak up on you like that? You swivel around, and lo and behold--

"Sans." You breath, a hint of aggression in your voice. It's definitely Sans, he didn't bother to dress up for the occasion, and he was his normal, passive self. The only thing off about him is that he's carrying a human child on his shoulders. The kid has short, choppy brown hair, squinty dark eyes, and is as dressed up about as much as Sans is. They look absolutely adorable.

"how goes it girly?" Sans grins at you, and the kid giggles and swings their legs.

"Pretty good." You shrug.

"SANS!! YOU SHOULD'VE BEEN HERE A MINUTE AGO." Papyrus sighs, "___________ SAID ONE OF THE MOST AWFUL PUNS I'VE EVER HEARD!!"

"did she now?" You look away when you see his grin turns from happy to smug, "i see i'm rubbing off on you."

"You're really not." You say apathetically, hoping he'd drop it.

"It was quite the pun." Toriel smiles, "Ah, Frisk, why don't you say hi to our new friend!"

Sans grunts as the kid perks up and scrambles to get off his shoulders. He kneels down for a second, and they jump down. Wow, they're a lot smaller than you thought... Perhaps eight years old, at the least. They straighten their striped t-shirt and hold out their hand in a business-like manner.

_Heh, they're so serious._

"Hi! Frisk is the name." They grin, "Politics is my game."

You only have to bend over slightly to shake her hand (which is a little embarrassing), and since they seems to be serious with their introduction, you decide to be too.

"___________, professional sleeper." You nod at her, "Pleased to meet you."

"Ditto." They beam at you, and you smile back. You've always had a thing for kids, they're so honest and innocent that it's hard not to like them.

"___________, t-this is our Ambassador for the m-monsters." Alphys chimes into the conversation.

"Really?" You act unsurprised. This kid has got to be no older than ten. It's hard to believe, but you go with the flow. You've learned after a while to expect things like this in the monster society.

"Oh yes, and she's quite good at her job." Mettaton waltzes into the group, flashing his usual smile, "Aren't you?"

"Heck yeah I am." They fold their arms and pose proudly. Mettaton sees the chance to pose as well and joins in with them.

"Ah, darling, it's been so long since we've had a pose-off." Mettaton sighs, "Shall we?"

"I thought you'd never ask." Frisk poses dramatically, legs crossed and hand to their forehead.

"Come now." Mettaton holds out his hand, and Frisk takes it immediately. Then he whisks them away to god knows where to do their little posing competition. You think.

There's a moment of quiet amongst the group.

...

"I like them." You state loudly to break the silence.

"SAME." Papyrus agrees.

"The 'lil squirt is pretty great." Undyne nods.

"yup." Sans says simply.

"That's my child." Toriel says proudly, and Asgore sheepishly nods. He seems a little... Awkward around Toriel. You refrain from asking him why.

"TELL EVERYONE THE STORY OF HOW WE MET!!" Papyrus jumps up and down in anticipation.

_He's too precious for this world._

And so you begin telling your story. How Papyrus found you 'valiantly' cleaning trash in the snow, how he desperately wanted to help you. As you went on, more people started to gather, and soon there was a chattering crowd of people who wanted to hear what you had to say. Papyrus would occasionally interject and say a minor detail you missed, which made telling of the tale a lot more interesting. Occasionally everyone would laugh at a comment you made. You didn't expect to be funny, oddly enough. Your cynical and sassy attitude is usually met with lectures and scoffs, but to them it was amusing. The more they laughed, the more you got into telling stories, and the more you told, the more you opened up. You feel incredible, like you're coming undone in front of all these people.

_Weird._

***

Sans watches you as you speak, retelling the way you became friends with Papyrus, Undyne, and Alphys. Whenever you got to a part you really liked, you would describe the feeling of that moment in detail, and he could almost feel it himself. 

Papyrus and Undyne would drop a sly comment once in a while, and you would blush and lose your train of thought. 

Often you'd say things that would get a laugh from people, and you'd look a little shocked. How can you say something funny with such a straight face?

When you transitioned to telling about the rude drunk couple, you got really into it. You spoke a lot with your hands, occasionally flicking a stray piece of hair off your shoulder. You didn't leave out a single detail. Sometimes you'd pause dramatically, and often you'd mimic what you thought their voices sounded like. Everyone is enraptured by you.

_it's just like the night we watched TV together._

Sans freezes.

_wait, is it?_

He watched you a little more carefully. Sure enough, you are speaking with the same enthusiasm when he brought you coffee.

_what is this feeling?_

Sans feels a little... Gross. He wasn't really sure how else to explain it. He didn't want her to be so open to them.

_wait... wait, this is backwards._

He does want you to be open. This is what he's been aiming for right?

_then why do i feel angry? is this even anger?_

He watches you cover your mouth and stifle a laugh at something Aaron says, and his heart rises to his throat.

_i want to make her laugh._

Sans shoves his hands deeper into his pockets, and tries his best to shove this feeling back where it came from. It just keeps rising up again.

_she drives me insane._

He wants to be alone with you.

_god fucking dammit sans._

He wants to tease you until your face burns bright red.

_you need to stop._

He wants to be the only one you talk to in this way.

_you're being ridiculous._

He wants you.

_i can't fucking stop._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _hey kid._
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _you liking the party?_
> 
>  
> 
> _doesn't toriel not let you near the bar?_
> 
>  
> 
> _oh, you wanna talk again. well, c'mere and sit down. don't let your mom catch you though._
> 
>  
> 
> _oof. that's my rib cage._
> 
>  
> 
> _ah, that's better._
> 
>  
> 
> _what? ___________?_
> 
>  
> 
> _straight to the point. nah, it's fine, kinda nice to talk about her._
> 
>  
> 
> _heh, do i really have it that badly?_
> 
>  
> 
> _damn._
> 
>  
> 
> _is that so? i'm happy you like her. a lot of people like her, apparently._
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _jealousy? not likely._
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _..._
> 
>  
> 
> _wait._
> 
>  
> 
> _wait, what?_
> 
>  
> 
> _you're going to talk to her?_
> 
>  
> 
> _t-that's not necessary kiddo, i got it._
> 
>  
> 
> _don't you dare, you little rascal._
> 
>  
> 
> _..._
> 
>  
> 
> _you want me to tell her then?_
> 
>  
> 
> _..._
> 
>  
> 
> _alright._


	17. Rule #17 - Don't Go To Parties: You Might Receive a Job Offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear to right I'm godding write now.

"O. M. G. Bratty! Taste this amazing goop!"

You're in the middle of a conversation with Mettaton, and you stop mid-sentence when you hear a particularly loud cat monster shout to who you assume is her best friend.

_Amazing goop?_

"Lemme try it Catty!" A turquoise alligator rushed over to your bowl of cookie dough and digs her hand into it.

_Oh._

"Something catch your attention, darling?"

You pull your eyes away from the table, where a few more monsters had gathered and were eating your "amazing goop".

"Yeah... You know that cookie dough I brought?" You say slowly.

"Oh." He looks behind you and sees the chaos that was starting to ensue.

_I hope to god they leave some for me._

By the way things were looking, it was unlikely. A few more people saw the commotion at the table and wanted to see what was happening. Once they tried it, they kept eating it.

"I'll be back." You say distractedly to Mettaton, and he nods understandingly.

You walk to the table to find a spider nibbling on a piece of the dough. You're resisting the urge to whisk away the bowl... You really wanted some too. Raw cookie dough is your not-so-guilty pleasure.

"Hm..." She says in an airy sort of tone, "Not bad~"

"Not _bad_??" Catty reaches into the bowl, "It's like, totally great!"

Frisk and a small armless yellow monster bound up to the you, curious to see what's happening. Frisk peeks into the bowl and look back at you, and you frown slightly at them. They know by the look you're giving them that it's yours. 

_Don't you dare. Don't--_

They grin devilishly at you and dig their hand into the dough, pulling out a rather large handful and rush away with their monster friend.

_That child. I love them. But I don't._

Bratty and Catty are eating the rest of the cookie dough and raving about it. They don't even know what the substance is. It could be dirt with sugar in it, and they wouldn't care. You sigh, accepting defeat.

"Glad you like it." You say apathetically. 

"Fuhu, is this yours?" The spider giggles, "It is rather tasty. What is it?"

"Raw cookie dough."

She sputters and nearly spits out the dough, to your great irritation.

_If you don't know what it is, don't eat it in the first place._

"R-raw cookie dough?" She coughs, "Why didn't you bake it?"

"Why would I?" You raise an eyebrow.

"The egg..." She looks at the bowl, "R-raw egg..."

_Oh. OH._

"You worried about salmonella?" You ask.

"Some monsters are more proned to disease and sickness." She says worriedly, "I should probably--"

"I didn't put any eggs in, or anything like that." You cut in, "I thought of that beforehand. It's sickness-free."

The spider takes a moment to let that sink in, then she looks incredibly relieved.

"Fuhuhu~ You scared me for a moment there... Uhm..."

"___________." You say bluntly.

"___________," She smiles, giving you an eerie feeling, "What a beautiful name~! Do you bake often?"

"Guess you could say that. I'm not a baking prodigy though." You shrug, putting your hand in the bowl in search for some scraps.

"The raw cookie dough is a genius idea, in my opinion." She says, her three eyes blinking innocently.

_She wants something._

When you realize this, your guard goes up, and so does your uneasiness.

"I'm flattered." 

"No, really!" She grins wider, "I'm sure you have plenty of other ideas up your clever little sleeve~"

"I don't have ideas. Or sleeves." You gesture to your dress.

"You're funny!" She laughs into her hand, "I like that. You know, I'm a baker too~"

_God._

"In fact, I opened a bakery very recently!"

_I did not ask for this._

"And of course, when someone first starts a business, they're in desperate need of employees. My bakery is a monster-operated business, so the situation is more dire than most cases..."

_And here comes the punchline._

"So I was wondering, because you seem to be a fantastic cookie-dough maker~" She says sweetly, "That you may be interested in a job?"

_There it is._

Your first instinct is to say no. You don't need a job, your parents give you enough to support you financially. So you open your mouth to decline, but your words catch in your throat when you think of something else.

_Brandon..._

Brandon cut off your parents a while back, and has been struggling since. You desperately tried to sneak him some money under the table, but he's just as stubborn as you when it comes to your parents. He won't accept anything that he suspects came from them. You never got why he boycott them, but you never pushed him on the subject. But maybe with this job, he might actually accept a little help.

"You can try it for a week, and if you don't like it, you can quit." She adds quickly.

_Hoo boy._

"Okay."

Her face lights up.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I'll do it." You shrug, "Could be fun, I s'pose."

"Fantastic dearie~" She claps happily.

"Fantastic." You agree not nearly as enthusiastically, "I don't mean to be nosy, but I don't even know your name."

"Oh my, how rude of me." She giggles, "My name is Muffet. Shall we talk business?"

"Actually, I avoid talking business when I can help it." You say, dismissing the idea, "I can give you my phone number, shall we text?"

"Of course~ Perfectly understandable." Muffet winks, "I avoid it as well, it takes away all the fun of baking. So, what are your digits?"

You and Muffet exchange phone numbers, and you thank her for her generous job offer. She blushes and waves off your thanks, then thanks you.

_Well... Didn't expect to get a job at a party._

***

After your thanking session, you dismiss yourself and make a bee line for the bar. The whole ordeal drained your social energy, and you really needed a drink. As you approach the bar, you notice that Grillby wasn't there. Instead there's a lanky, cat-like monster on the other side, smoking a cigarette. He's probably the bartender for the night, but he doesn't seem to be... Bartending. He's leaning on the counter, staring off into space. His cigarette was barely dangling from his mouth, and he looks like he hasn't slept in days.

_I feel you._

Once you get to the empty bar, you plop yourself down on a seat. The bartender's eyes flicker over to you, then back to whatever he was staring at. He doesn't seem up for conversation.

That's fine, you just need a drink.

"Whiskey, three shots. Put it on Undyne's tab." You lean on the counter, propping your head up with your hand. The bartender gives you a look that says 'you serious?', but doesn't question you vocally.

"Coming right up, little buddy." He pushes himself up and off the counter to prep the shots.

You fiddle with the hem of your dress while you wait. After all the talking, storytelling, and what you call 'unnecessary social interactions' you feel a little burnt out. You felt great conversing with some people, and some parts of this night were incredible, but you feel like you're coming down from the high. And as you know, when you get high, you're going to hit a low at some point. That point is happening right about now. The small motivation to be social is totally gone, and replacing it is the urge to block out the loud party noise... And everything around you really. You tug on the pins and hairbands holding up your elegant ponytail, carefully pulling them out. Your hair falls down your shoulders, releasing the tension from your head and relaxing you. The only real discomfort now is the crowd behind you and your dress. You really want to be in pajamas right now. Why didn't you bring some with you? 

You groan at your lack of forethought.

"Whoa, relax." The bartender hands you the shots, "Here's your booze."

"Thanks. Need it." You reach for one of the tiny glasses gratefully, downing it in one gulp. You feel a rush, then a warmth spreads through your veins. You lean onto the counter, letting the alcohol do it's work.

"Don't we all. Have a wonderful night!" He gives you a strained smile. You squint your eyes at him a bit, noticing his obvious stress.

"Don't force yourself, it's only me." You say, reaching for another glass, "I don't care for formality."

At these words his grin immediately slips from his face.

"Thanks bud." He scratches his chin, "God, my face hurts."

"Can't imagine what it's like smiling for that long." You say sincerely. Your head is starting to feel a bit fuzzy. You like it. It's a blissful, happy fuzziness.

"Oh, it's fantastic." He says, flicking his cigarette, "Smiling is great. I love smiling for people, and giving them a SPARKtacular day!"

You look at him incredulously. You've never heard someone say anything this sarcastic before. It's wonderful.

"SPARKtacular?" You snort. The corner of his mouth turns up slightly.

"My boss gave me a list of SPARKtacular things to say for my job at the Burger Emporium." He shrugs, "It's a force of habit."

"Sounds SPARKtacular." 

The bartender huffs a cloud of smoke and gives a short laugh. You feel a little pleased with yourself and down the third shot. Setting the glass down, you notice your brain feels a little less fuzzy and a little more mushy.

"You know, I've never seen someone take shots as quickly as you." He says, "Pretty impressive."

"Not sure if I should be flattered or offended." You say, slurring slightly, "Get me a vodka?"

"You should be both. And a vodka?" He shakes his head, not out of distaste but out of disbelief, "You better have someone to carry you home."

You wave your hand in dismissal.

"How 'bout," You say, playing with an empty glass, "You get me a vodka, and you take a break."

"Why would I take a break?" He says a little cynically.

"So we can say really nice shit about things in a really mean way." You say waving your hand around, "You can tell me about your hopes and dreams, and maybe even your life story. I feel like listening to satire."

At this, his face lights up he chuckles a bit. Grabbing a scotch glass, he fills it with ice and pours vodka over it.

"Here's your beverage miss." He grins, "Have a SPARKtacular night!"


	18. rule #18 - no more booze for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Burgerpants is one of my favorite characters in the game, even though he's just a vendor. Seriously, what a guy.
> 
> This is a short chapter. Not to worry though, a LOT more will come next chapter!

"So, I could be wrong," The bartender slouches into the seat next to yours, "but people usually have a name."

"Yes, that's usually the case." You agree, sipping your vodka slowly, "Are you implying something?"

"Not at all." He pulls out a pack of cigarettes from one of his pockets, "I'll just call you little buddy all evening."

"Ew. No thanks." You scrunch up your nose, "My name is ___________, please use it."

"Sure thing, little buddy." He chuckles when you groan into your glass. He flicks a lighter and puts it to his cigarette, letting out a puff of smoke. You watch him expectantly, waiting for him to tell you his name. He doesn't seem to notice. If he did, he was just ignoring you.

Suddenly, he sighs defeatedly.

"Burgerpants." He mutters. So he wasn't ignoring you, he was just... Spacing out.

"Burgerpants?" Your head nods to the side, questioning what he was saying.

"That's my name, don't wear it out." He leans onto the counter and turns to you.

"You serious?" You slur unbelievingly, and he grimaces. He seems a little pissed at you.

"Yeah. It's a nickname, and comes with a story!" He says in a fake, happy tone.

"Oh." You sway a little, "Well, I'm not forcing you to tell the backstory, but you should know that I'm very curious person. And I'm not exactly doing anything right now. 'Cept drinking my happy juice." You wave your glass in the air, and he raises an eyebrow at you.

"It's quite the tale, but I must warn you..." He gives you an _very_ exaggerated look of concern, making you burst in a fit of drunken laughter.

"Once I start talking, I won't stop."

"I'm a good listener, and totally up for it." You grin, "So blab away."

"'aight." He shrugs, "So, in the Underground, a long way back when the barrier still hadn't fallen, I worked at this burger joint in a hotel. Right next to the hotel there's an alley where these two chicks like to hang out... We've talked a bit before, and they seemed pretty cool. So one day, they ask me to sneak them some glamburgers... A _lot_ of glamburgers. So I went out to the alley to see those two ladies, and uh... you know, see what'd happen next." He looks at you, expecting you to comment or scowl at him. You didn't say anything, you just kept your eyes locked on him (in a hazy, tipsy manner) and waited for him to keep talking. Realizing this, he clears his throat and goes on.

"As I was going there, my boss, uh, caught me and asked me what I was doing." He scratches his ear, "I was so startled, the hamburgers in my pockets tumbled out onto the ground. Not wanting to lose face, I scrambled to pick them up. But, as I was leaning over, the weight of the remaining hamburgers..."

He runs his hand through his short tuft of hair awkwardly.

"...Caused my pants to fall down. Then the girls laughed at me. Everyone calls me Burgerpants now." He finishes. You sit there in silence for a minute, and he shifts uncomfortably. You probably are going to make fun of him. Why wouldn't you? It's funny, especially to a pretty girl like you. Things like this probably never happen to you, right?

You squint your eyes at him, and he braces himself for the mockery.

"What a bunch of tools."

...

"Huh?"

"Why people do shit like that to others makes no sense to me." You say frowning.

"Well... It's cuz they're attractive." Burgerpants shrugs, "Believe me, I know. Unless you're _one of them_ they'll use you--"

"Now, that's some hard bullshit as well." You say insightfully.

"People are nasty, **all people are nasty,** and looks have nothing to do with cruelty."

Burgerpants gapes at you, unsure of how to respond. He's never been told off before. Actually, he has, but he hasn't had a lecture that's was sincere and not chastising towards him. You speak as if you know a lot on the subject, and he couldn't figure out why someone like you could be as bitter as him. You stare him down for a minute, then slap your hands on the counter.

"Well, anywhosies. I'm not calling you Burgerpants, so is it cool if I call you..." You lean back, your cheeks puffing in thought, "...BP?"

"BP?"

"Yeah, BP. Abbreviations are all the rage, dontcha know?"

"Are they really?" He says thoughtfully, "Hm... BP... Has a nice ring to it."

"I know it does." You say, satisfied with yourself.

"Hahah, thanks ___________. When I'm a famous actor, I'll be sure to give you a shoutout." He huffs a cloud of smoke. 

At these words, your eyes widen and you look at him as if you've just had the biggest epiphany.

"You wanna be an actor?!" You clap your hands in realization, "So _that's_ why your expressions are so...!" You wave your arms around, trying to grasp the right words. You seemed to be very impressed, with both him and yourself. He laughs at your drunken effort to gather your words.

"I get what you're saying." He grins, "And yeah, I suppose that's why my expressions are so..." He flings his arms into the air, exaggerating your swaying movements. You scowl at him smack at his arms. 

"having fun?"

***

You swivel around in your barstool to find Sans striding towards you. Now, if you weren't tipsy and fuzzy headed, you would've noticed that he did not seem to be in the greatest of moods. His smile wasn't strained, but it was easy to see that he wasn't concerned with hiding his irritation. Undyne is trailing behind him, and she looked like she had a little much to drink as well. Her face is flushed, her eyes are glassy and she can't walk in a very straight line.

"Sans, Sans, Sans... Bud." You grab your half empty glass of vodka, "I'm having tons of fun. The party is great! Super duper great-io. But you know what isn't great-io?"

His eyebrows furrow as you take another swig from your glass and set it down on the bar. You swing yourself off your seat, amble to him and grab his shoulders with the most 'no-bullshit' expression he's seen you wear. You lean very close to him, and he jolts back a little, his face turning blue.

"The music." You whisper, "The music sounds like..."

You stop mid-sentence, and you roll your head to your shoulder in thought. Sans is frozen stiff.

"...something." You slur, "Don't tell Grillby I said that, m'kay?"

He nods slowly.

"sure... but are you oka--"

"NOW THEN!" You push yourself off him, and everyone within a ten foot radius turns towards you, "Is a person... or a thing... in charge of the music?"

You put your hand in the air in an authoritative manner... Well, as authoritative you can be for being intoxicated. Monsters who didn't recognize you were exchanging furtive looks. They seemed uneasy with your presence. However, the majority of the people who knew you from the storytelling and cookie dough incident smiled at you. They knew a something good was going to happen. 

When nobody answers your question, you take that as an invitation to show off your musical expertise.

"Lemme do y'all a favor," You say decisively, "and pick out the tunes you'll hear for the rest of the night. Cuz quite frankly, I could go for a dance or two. Or six."

Many people cheer at the announcement, some nod dismissively, and some go back to whatever they were doing. You stumble to Undyne, who was laughing hysterically for some reason or another, grab her arm and drag her off... Probably to go find Grillby.

Burgerpants sits at the bar and watches you stumble off. Sans stands frozen where you grabbed him, processing what just happened. He's be lying if he said was a little worried for you, you seemed like you had more than your fair share of alcohol for that night. Undyne is flat-out drunk, so she won't be up for taking you home. Mettaton would be the most reliable option, maybe he should go find him...

As Sans continues to contemplate where Mettaton could've gone off to, Burgerpants stubs his cigarette on the counter and gets up slowly. Sans eyes flicker over to him, watching him carefully. Burgerpants walks behind the counter again, resuming his 'work'. 

Sans digs his hands deeper into his hoodie pockets, glaring at the bartender. He considers going up to him, grabbing him by the shirt and demand to know what the hell he's thinking, flirting with you like that. Burgerpants was notorious for being a thirsty little teenager in the Underground, and he was also one of the few people Sans would gladly dunk into hell and beyond.

_but everything that happened in the underground... was ages ago._

Sans reminds himself that people can change, and he is living proof of that. But he feels uneasy just... Leaving Burgerpants be. So he doesn't.

"if you're trying to hook up with her, it's not going to happen."

Burgerpants looks up.

"What do ya mean, little buddy?"

"___________. she takes shit from nobody." Sans shrugs, "i'm just saying, don't count on it."

Burgerpants eyes Sans strangely.

"You her boyfriend?"

"nope."

"Why do you care then?" He frowns.

"i know her, and i'm making sure she doesn't have to go through any bullshit." He says bluntly, indicating that the conversation is over. Burgerpants didn't seem satisfied with that answer, but he didn't push it.

"Well, I ain't going to hook up with her. Happy?" He says, reaching for a beer on the counter. He grabs one and pops it open. Sans gives him one last look of distaste, then turns away and starts walking off.

"But, she is pretty interesting, isn't she?" Burgerpants says slyly.

Sans stops.

Then continues walking straight forward.

Burgerpants watches him leave, and as soon as he's out of earshot, he doubles over laughing.


	19. wish #19 - won't you remember what you said?

_~Cut me loose, puttin’ my puttin’ my hands up~_

‘Beat of My Drum’ booms loudly on the speakers, sending vibrations through the walls. With the help of Grillby and a few volunteers, you moved all the tables and chairs to the side of the room creating a makeshift dancefloor. With the lights turned down and the lanterns sending warm glow on the bare wooden floor, it gave the perfect atmosphere. You stand back and admire the setup.

_This is gonna be sick._

You turn to everyone, who were all backed up in a group amongst the tables, and gesture to the dancefloor.

“Well?” You smile, slurring a bit, “Whatchu waiting for?”

The monsters shift uncomfortably. They don't show much interest in dancing, even though they said they wanted to earlier. You frown in confusion. Now that you got it all set up, they don't want to dance?

“What's the matter…?” Your arm drops to your side.

The monsters glance at each other.

“W-we aren't used to… The k-kind of dancing humans e-enjoy.” Alphys pipes up from the crowd.

More confusion fills your muddled thoughts.

“What do you mean?” You ask, getting progressively lost.

“I mean, we're u-used to a different kind of music.” She says quickly, “Like, s-slower, softer m-music.”

You're trying to wrap your head around what she's saying, which is a little difficult to do in your current state. Softer music? Like folk or classical?

_I suppose I could put on something slower..._

But you really want to have a rave. Undyne loves a good rave, so why don't they?

“Yo ___________!”

_Speak of the devil._

Undyne barrels towards you and throws her arm around your neck, martini in hand. She's definitely had more to drink than you.

“This is a pretty decent setup… Yeah, we did a purdy good job.” She nods, “So, we gonna dance orrrr…”

You look to the monsters, who were muttering something inaudible to you. They're too calm, and you feel like it was your destiny to shake things up.

You've made up your mind. You're going to give these people a good time. But you know you need a motivator, and you weren't enough to get them going.

You look over the crowd, searching for one particular person...

_Bingo. Right next to the skeleton._

You point at them, getting their attention.

“You there! The fabulous human in the striped shirt.” You grin at Frisk, who looks a little startled to be called out suddenly. Sans on the other hand, didn't seem surprised at all. In fact, he grins at Frisk and nudges them forward. He nods at them as if to say ‘go on’ and Frisk smiles sheepishly. They step up to you, a little shy to be the total center of attention. You didn't notice, you’re very focused on your mission.

“Frisk.” You clasp their hands in yours, looking at them seriously, “Can you dance?”

The look at you strangely.

“Not… Really…”

“Good. Neither can I.” 

A few laughs erupt from the crowd, and you look up to everyone to address them loudly.

“You don't have to know how to dance, you just have to know how to flail your limbs!”

Right on cue, your song comes on. ‘Chocolate’ by the 1975, the perfect starting song to start off with. It's bubbly and happy, and although it has some hidden explicit themes, it has a perfect beat. 

_~Hey now call it a split 'cause you know that you will_

_Oh you bite your friends like chocolate~_

You grab Frisk’s hands tighter and nod, bobbing up and down to the beat.

They smile at you, realizing what your plan is. They jump and down, their short hair swishing around their shoulders.

“Yeah, you got it!” You laugh. Frisk giggles and picks up the pace as the song speeds up. You do the same, and when the chorus hits you do your signature (slightly violent) headbang.

_~Oh we'll go where nobody knows_

_with guns hidden under our petticoats~_

After you both dance in circles for a minute, and Papyrus seemed to perk up with interest. He shyly edges himself towards you both, not sure how to join in. You and Frisk don't waste a second. They grab Papyrus by the arm and jumps with him. He bursts out laughing and swings his hips to the beat. Toriel and Asgore, who were watching from a distance, looked at each other with amused smiles on their faces. Asgore nods politely to Toriel and shuffles over to the dancefloor. When Frisk sees the the monster king attempting to dance, their eyes widen with delight. They let go of Papyrus’ hands and sprints to Asgore. 

Papyrus didn’t care that Frisk left him. He’s killing it on his own. Really though, the guy had some pretty great moves, you briefly wonder if he rehearsed beforehand.

Asgore laughs a deep, rumbling laugh (the kind you would expect from a king) as he sees Frisk bounding over to him, grin spread widely on their face. He kneels down, reaching his hands out for them, and they jump into his arms. He swings Frisk into the air, and they shriek with laughter. Asgore _giggles_ and holds Frisk to his chest, spinning in them in circles. Toriel smiles warmly at them and claps along with the music.

Something shifts in the crowd, something powerful that you could feel but couldn’t describe. People are making their way to the dance floor now, slowly at first, and then all at once. Undyne roars in happiness and snatches up Alphys, who looks both blissfully happy and utterly terrified. Mettaton made his way into the center, Bratty and Catty among other fans surround him, forming a loud mosh pit. Grillby is standing next to the large speakers with a very bored-looking Burgerpants, nodding his head enthusiastically.

_Ten minutes ago, the room was nearly silent. Nobody knew how to dance like this, let alone wanted to. Looking around now, you see people, all kinds of people dancing like nobody is watching._

Everyone moves differently, and sometimes strangely, but it doesn’t matter how you look. You all are on the same tempo.

And that’s what really matters.

***

Sans leans against the wall, sipping a bottle of ketchup as the chaos unfolds in front of him. He's never seen any of his friends act this... Wild before. Sure, each of them had their moments, but this was a massive crowd of energy that he has never seen before... The energy felt similar to Frisk's determination. Not quite as strong of course, but definitely more emotion in it. Everyone is so blissfully happy, it made Sans smile just to watch it happening.

...

It's also pretty entertaining.

He watches Bratty fall over backwards in her attempt to bust a move that she is no where near capable of doing. When Catty saw this, she laughed so hard she fell over Bratty's tail.

One of Mettaton's fans accidentally detached his arm while swinging him around, and in their sudden panic they put it back in his socket... Backwards.

And then there's you. Sweaty, flushed, messy... You. Somehow you got your hands on another drink, and you sipped it as you bobbed and swayed to the rhythm of the music. Your hair is everywhere, your makeup is smeared, and you look disheveled and grimy.

_she looks incredible._

Your hips move perfectly to the beat, your movements slow down at the right parts of the song... And then the bass drops, and you dance like a rockstar. No, you're no professional, and your moves wouldn't be something you'd find on a TV show or dance competition, but you dance like you mean it. You move like it's nobody's business. You glow when a good song comes on, and when a _great_ song comes on, you grab Undyne's shoulder and jump excitedly.

_heh._

He stands like this for a while, and soon his ketchup bottle is drained. He considers going to get a new one, and possibly a different drink... When he catches eyes with you.

You're standing at the edge of the chaos, eyes narrowed. You're flat-out staring at him. He grins at you, sending a wink your way. You shake your head in disapproval and trudge to him, nearly tripping on a chair on your way over. Sans would've laughed if you didn't look so serious.

"come to pay me a visit, girly?" Sans says, raising an eyebrow, "'bout time."

Sans wasn't gonna lie to himself: This night wasn't as good as he had hoped it would be. Seeing you so loved by everyone made him feel kinda... like he's second cast. Yeah, it did bother him a bit, but he was happy that you're branching out. Okay, that is a lie. He didn't want you to branch out _that_ much. Realizing this, he flushes blue and looks away from your unwavering stare. You sway to the left, putting a hand on your hip. 

You look unimpressed with him, and he's not really sure what to expect from you right now.

"You haven't danced." You point out, "At all."

_she noticed?_

"tibia honest, i'm not such a great dancer. i'm more of a lay-back-and-don't-move-at-all kind of skeleton." He says playfully.

"I'm not nearly as much as a lazybones as you. But I gotta say," Your head rolls to your shoulder, "I'm a sleep-all-day-and-sleep-all-night kinda human myself. And I frickin' frackin' love dancing."

You crack a half smile, bringing Sans' undivided attention to you.

"I think you would too."

Sans wasn't really sure what to say. Are you acting this way because you're drunk? Or because you actually want to him to join in? He gazes at you, trying to decipher your thought process.

...

"nah."

Your smile drops immediately. You did not expect him decline, and you look absolutely livid at his response. Oddly enough, he feels satisfied he got such a strong reaction from you.

"Come and dance, you little turd." You hiss. He smirks at you, and you grimace at him.

"nah."

You throw your hands into the air in exasperation, almost losing balance from your sudden movement. Sans chuckles into his hand.

_i feel a little better now._

The fact that you came to him, that you noticed he was standing off tot he side, made him feel better. He wasn't sure why, and he didn't care to know why he felt this way. 

"Come dance with me."

Sans freezes.

_the tables have turned._

You rock back and forth on your heels, looking at him with the most pleading expression. He feels his face burning. You bite your lip, and an uncontrollable surge of magic pounds in his ears, making it difficult to think straight. When you start to fiddle with the fabric of your dress, and Sans felt his will breaking.

"alright."

Your face break into a wicked grin. You grab him by the arm and drag him into the crowd of chaos. At this moment, he realizes that this was a mistake. He can't dance. He's never danced before in his life. He tugs away from your grasp, but you quickly grab his sleeve and continue to hold on until you're near the speakers. Sans eyes flit around him, unsure of what to do.

_this feels wrong... i'd rather be at a distance. i'm not a dancer._

"Sans. take a deep breath and listen." You say, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

He looks at you disbelievingly, but does as you say. He takes a deep breath (and holds it), focusing his attention to the sounds around him.

**Ba-dum.**

Something inside him slows down. It wasn't the flow of his magic, or anything like that. There's something heavy that's being tugged from his shoulders.

**Ba-dum.**

The beat of the music aligns with his pulse, and his stomach is filled with a fluttering sensation. You take his hands, and he looks at you in wonder.

**Ba-dum.**

"Now, stop gaping and dance." You shake your head, swinging your hips rapidly. Sans didn't know what on earth he was doing, but it felt pretty damn good. He closes his eyes and holds your hands in his, moving almost as intensely as you did. Something inside him releases, and he goes all out. He doesn't care if he looks like a fool, he wants to dance as well as you do. And you suck at dancing.

As you see Sans get into it, you take the chance to throw a snarky comment his way.

"And that is the true power or peer pressure." You say, bouncing on your heels.

He shakes his head at you.

"don't you mean... _peeressure?_ "

You stop moving for a moment, and so does he.

"Peer... Essure... Pressure..." You slur, trying to get what he said. He waits in anticipation for you to get his obvious pun.

"PEERESSURE. HAH!" You throw your head back laughing. 

A short, genuine laugh from you was all it took for him to melt.

_i take it back. this night is a dream._

***

It's midnight. Toriel, Asgore, and Frisk were long gone, and the party died down from fifty people to about three people. Red solo cups are strewn everywhere, along with scraps of food and cocktail glasses. Lanterns are burning out, and Burgerpants was cleaning up the bar. Everything's shutting down, including you.

You had way too much to drink. More than what Brandon would be okay with you having. You passed out at a table after the rave died down, and Sans was sitting with you ever since. He fell asleep a few times too, but he always woke up to a sudden screech or maybe breaking glass. With all the noise, energy, and emotional confusion that happened tonight, he's nearly as exhausted as you are... But he reminds himself that he has things to figure out, such as...

_how are we gonna get you home?_

He watches your back rise and fall with your steady breathing. You look so peaceful, and you're so unaware of it that he doesn't really want to wake you up. But if you don't get home, he knows your brother will freak. So, he sighs and gently shakes your shoulder. You groan, and shift your head into a more comfortable position. Sans realizes this may be harder than he thought. He shakes your shoulder a little harder, leaning over and whispering into your ear.

"hey girly. get up."

"Mmmmph. Brandon..." You mumble, "I don't feel good... Lemme 'lone."

_god. you little drunk._

Sans props his head on his arm on the table and considers his options. He could hire a cab and drive you home, or teleport. Teleportation would be the one he would go for, but he should probably ask you first. Then again, you're not in a good position to make decisions. He looks over your sleeping form, and he argues back and forth with himself.

_ugh. why not put the magic to use._

He shakes your shoulder again, this time rougher. Your eyelids flutter and you raise your head slowly. A few strands of hair are caught in your mouth, and you have dark bags under your eyelids. When you get home, you're going to sleep like a rock.

"Five more minutes..." You moan, attempting to put your head back down.

"nope. gotta get you home." Sans stands up and gently lifts you with him by your arm. You flop into his arms, and he stumbles a bit under the sudden weight. He adjusts you so your head rests on his shoulder, your torso leaning into his side. He firmly holds your waist, bracing you for teleportation. It doesn't bother him anymore, but he does remember the first few times that he did it, and how gut-wrenching it was.

_i don't even have guts._

He chuckles as your hands grab onto the front of his sweatshirt.

_here we go..._

A flash of darkness and static, and he was in your livingroom. His knees nearly buckle from exhaustion: He hasn't teleported that far in a long, long time, let alone with another person, so it was a slight shock. He hobbles over to your couch and ever-so-carefully sets you down. You don't let go of his hoodie. He tries gently prying your fingers away, but you only hold on tighter. He holds onto your arm and pulls himself away, and your eyelids flicker open.

He freezes.

You look over him with a confused, hazy expression.

"W-where am I...?" You croak, your hooded eyes slowly scaling the room.

"brought you home after the party, girly. you're on your couch." Sans whispers, still holding your arm. You no longer look confused, and a relaxed smile came over your face.

"Thank you... Brandon..." You yawn, closing your eyes. Sans stares at you.

_heh. she still thinks i'm her brother._

"no prob." He runs his thumb over your knuckles, "gnight, girly."

"G'night... I love you..."

...

_for fucks sake._


	20. Rule #20 - Don't Drop Her Hints: If You Do, She Will Pick Them Up, Dust Them Off, and Hand Them Back to You.

You wake up to the unholy sound of of your school alarm going off. You groan into the pillow. No way in hell you're going to class today, so you roll over on your side and wrap your pillow around your head, willing the unholy sound to cease.

**BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.**

"Oh my- SHUT THE FUCK UP." You shout at your phone, but it kept on screaming for you to get off your hungover ass and take a shower. But were you gonna let an obnoxious alarm tell you how to run your life? Oh no. Not happening.

You groggily reach for your phone and switch off the hellish beeping. 

Yeah, you aren't gonna take a shower... Yet.

_What can I say, I'm a rebel._

You sit up, and immediately regret it. Your stomach lurches, and you lurch along with it. You had a little too much fun last night... This hangover is going to be wonderful. You carefully assess yourself and your surrounding. You made it home, that's for sure. This is definitely your livingroom. You're still in your party dress, your hair is a rats nest, and you smell like stale spaghetti and sweat. The only parts of last night that you can clearly remember are all up to the point when you spoke with BP. Everything else is a haze, some moments sticking out more than others, but otherwise hard to decipher. If you try to think about it your head hurts, so you leave it alone for now. 

You rub your eyes, waking up a little more, and throw off your blankets. You wonder who got you home, there's no way you could've gotten back by yourself. Maybe Mettaton dropped off everyone. You stretch, saving those thoughts for later. Looking to the coffee table next to the couch, you see two glasses of water set on it. It was then that you realized how sticky your mouth felt. You close your eyes and silently thank whoever took you home.

You lean over and grab one of the glasses off the table and take a sip. A sharp, stinging sensation fills your mouth, and you sputter, spitting it out. 

_What the--_

It's vodka. Someone set out some vodka for you. You curse under your breath, setting the glass back down carefully. As you do so, a little folded piece of paper behind the other glass catches your eye. You snatch it up and unfold it. It's a note.

**good morning girly. you got pretty wasted last night. mettaton left and undyne disappeared to god knows where, so i took you home. you're welcome. also, you're probably wondering _water_ in those glasses.**

**one is h2o**

**and one is vodka**

**choose wisely.**

**it's _pun_ -ishment for what you said. have a good hangover.**

**p.s. i may or may not have written another message somewhere... uh... you'll see it soon enough. see ya.**

Your hand is grasping the paper so tightly that it crumples in your grip. Sans took you home. The note doesn't have a name attached, but you had no doubt in your mind that he was the one. Who else would do this kind of thing for you?

_He always seems to be looking out for me._

You shake your head and toss the note aside. Your head hurts too much to think into it. You lean over and pick up the other cup that supposedly has the water, taking cautious sip. The cool water fills your mouth, ridding it off the stickiness and morning breath. You down the whole thing and sigh. You feel much better.

You sit on the couch for a bit, just relaxing and not thinking about anything in particular. Your phone goes off a few times, but you just ignore it. You're too busy doing nothing to do something. Besides, interacting with someone sounds draining at the moment.

_I should really take a shower._

You sigh and flop yourself off the couch. You really didn't want to do anything, but you knew that if you didn't do something you were going to not do anything until Brandon forces you.

So first things first: Shower.

You gather yourself, trying to ease the dizziness that comes over you when you stand up. You stumble down to your room where your bathroom is. You open the door and walk into the bedroom.

 _Ahh. My lair._

Your room is a bomb zone. Typical artist's mess, scattered papers and canvases, paint stains, pens and pencils EVERYWHERE. An old pizza box is stuffed under your bed, along with a few eating utensils and books. Everything is everywhere, but for some reason the chaos is comforting to you. Uncontrollably chaotic, total mess... Fits your personality, right?

You kick aside some dirty clothes blocking that bathroom door and open it. When you walk in, you're met with the same chaos in your room. Scattered toiletries, makeup, hair and skin products... And a few things that shouldn't be in a bathroom for any reason. You push aside some things on the edge of the sink and turn the water on. Before you have the chance to wash your face, something catches your eye in the mirror above the sink.

_He didn't._

You lean forward to get a better look.

_He did._

**"sans was here"** is written on your cheek in thick black marker. You quickly splash your face with water and rub at the markings, hoping to god they'll come off. The water isn't working very well, the writing only faded a little. You throw your head back and groan at the ceiling. 

_God... Why? What did I do to deserve this?_

It was at this moment that you remember his note to you.

_Does it have to do with "what I said"? What the frick did I say, anyways?_

You don't think too much into it, you know that you were far too wasted last night to remember details about anything that happened.

_Maybe it'll come off in the shower._

***

Sans lay awake on his back, trying to gather his thoughts. He's been on his bedroom floor all night, trying to stop that one line from replaying in his head over and over.

_G'night... I love you..._

He moans and drags his hands down his face. He knows it wasn't directed at him, you thought he was Brandon. But he did technically bring you home and take care of you, maybe...

_oh my god. stop it sans._

He pushes himself off the ground and sighs. Why he let this bother him so much, he had no idea. It wasn't that big of a deal. But those words totally threw him off. Of course, he got a little revenge: He drew on your face and set out a vodka-water challenge. But that doesn't make up for the fact that you temporarily mindfucked him.

_heh. i suppose i can forgive her... if she makes up for it._

_..._

_sans, what the hell was that supposed to mean?_

**Knock knock knock.**

Quick rapping on his door wakes Sans from his thoughts.

"sup bro?"

"SANS!! THANK GOD YOU'RE UP. UNDYNE TEXTED AND SHE ASKED ME TO HELP HER BABYSIT FRISK... AND, UH, ASKED YOU TO COME TOO." Papyrus calls through the door.

Sans is extremely confused. He opens his mouth to ask the reason why Undyne needs him, but Papyrus cut him off before he could say anything.

"D-DON'T ASK WHY OR ANYTHING! THERE'S NO PARTICULAR REASON OR MEANING. REALLY. AT ALL."

_way to be subtle bro._

"SANS???"

"yeah, i'm comin'."

***

You stare at your phone, unable to process what just happened. Undyne texted you after you got out of your shower. You guts were talking a bit when all the sudden the conversation took an unexpected turn, and you weren't sure how you felt about it. You read through the texts to make sure you weren't missing any hidden meaning.

***Hey nerd. Text me back ASAP, I got something to ask of you.**

***I swear to god ___________ if you don't answer your phone I'll take you and keep you in my basement.**

**-Chill your fins, I was just taking a shower. What's up?**

***Rude. And I was just gonna ask you if you could come over and help me babysit Frisk.**

***I'm at Toriel's by the way**

**-Why are you at Toriel's place so early in the morning? Did Frisk kidnap you?**

***That's one way to put it. Nah I got pretty wasted last night, and Tori was worried so she took me home early with Frisk. Now she wants me to babysit them.**

***Oh my god**

***This was her plan**

***To take care of me and guilt me into babysitting**

***What a sneaky little goat**

**\- *gasp* I knew the gentle, motherly goat lady had a devious plan to get you to watch her child all along!**

***Don't mock me punk, or you're gonna end up on the back of a milk carton.**

**-That's a bad idea. I'm lactose intolerant.**

***Really?**

***Wait sTOP DISTRACTING ME**

**-That was my plan all along!**

***This just keeps getting worse and worse**

**-Well, make it better.**

***Fine, I will.**

***Please come over, I'm so lonely...**

**-First of all, that sounded like a bootycall, and if it was, I'm very sorry because I'm just not into you like that. Second of all, Frisk is the most interactive, entertaining child I've ever met, how is it possible for you to be lonely?**

***I crave your attention.**

**-Again, sounds like a bootycall.**

***Ah, my heart is broken. I guess the only person you want a bootycall from is Sans... ;)**

**-...**

**-...**

**-.............................................**

**-I will rip off your arms and shove them down your throat if you say anything like that again.**

***Kinky. Save that for the skeleton "girly".**

**-UNDYNE I SWEAR TO GOD.**

***Heehee, just messing with you. Kinda.**

**-I don't even know what to say to you right now.**

***How about "I'm so sorry for being a stubborn antisocial tsundere and I really want to help you babysit."**

**-That's unreasonable and you know it.**

***Fine, don't say it. But do come over. Frisk wants to hang out with you, they really like you apparently. Kept raving about the "Nice pretty human lady at the party". I don't know where the nice part came from, you're one of the cruelest people I know.**

**-Thank you!**

**-And I guess I'm just nicer around kids.**

***Huh. The more you know.**

***So, you're coming?**

**-Ehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhjdiwicjwbshhehsjfdjej**

**-Fine.**

***WOOO! You're too kind, really too kind**

**-Don't say that. I gotta keep my cold reputation.**

***Sure. Can you be here in an hour?**

**-Mmm yeah. Is there any food there?**

***Yup.**

**-I might be there sooner then. All I have at my place is tea and peanut butter.**

***Sweet.**

***Also, when the kid goes to bed, we're having boy talk.**

**-Boy talk? What boy we talking about here?**

***...**

***You can't be this oblivious.**

**-What.**

***You just can't. Be. This. Unaware.**

**-WHAT.**

***Oops, gotta go, Frisk wants to play hide and seek.**

***Be here in an hour, or earlier. Don't be late.**

**-UNDYNE**

**-YOU CAN'T JUST CHANGE THE SUBJECT**

**-COME BACK HERE RIGHT NOW**

**-YOU'RE GONNA HAVE IT WHEN I GET THERE...**

 

Your face flushes as you read through the texts. You have a vague idea of what she's talking about, but you weren't totally sure. When she mentioned 'boy talk', a very specific face flashed through your mind...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Isn't she the cutest?"
> 
> Undyne turns to look at Frisk, who was reading the texts over her shoulder. Frisk smiles and nods, bobbing excitedly.
> 
> "I can see why uncle Sans likes her."
> 
> Undyne grins devilishly at them.
> 
> "You know what we gotta do, right?"


	21. Rule #21 - Don't Be Fooled By a Garden Bed.

"HUMAN!!"

You and Undyne are greeted at the Toriel's doorway by a large skeleton and a small human, both with equal amounts of energy. You brace yourself as you see Papyrus and Frisk barreling towards you guys, arms open to catch you. Undyne jumps back as Papyrus grabs you by the waist and swings you nearly over his shoulder in a rib-crushing hug. Frisk gets ahold of your dangling leg and wraps themself around it like a vice. With these two forces pulling at your limbs, you felt like you're being torn apart.

_Well, at least I'll die of affection._

"Paps," You wheeze, "Oxygen. I need oxygen."

Papyrus lifts you up and out by your shoulders, as if he's getting a better look at you. Even with Frisk's extra weight, he still holds you up like you weigh no more than a sack of flour. They both look at you with delight, and a warm feeling fills your chest.

"HUMAN, IT'S BEEN AGES!" Papyrus beams at you.

"I saw you last night." You roll your eyes, but can't stop the small smile from crossing your lips.

"Last night was forever ago!" Frisk jumps down from you, but is still holding onto your leg. Undyne, who's behind you trying _very_ hard not to laugh, decides to step in and help you.

"Yeah, it's been a while." She chuckles and shoots Papyrus a look, "Now, put her down you nerd."

Papyrus drops you midair, and you stumble as you hit the ground. Frisk grabs your hand immediately and looks over at Undyne.

"I'm taking her." They say turn around and stride off, dragging you behind them, "Bye!"

"I'm going to want that back!" Undyne calls after them, earning a dirty look from you. Undyne grins at you and waves goodbye, then turns to Papyrus and strikes up a friendly conversation.

***

As you're being dragged through the long entrance hallway into the livingroom, you pass the kitchen. For a split second you see Toriel standing at the counter, mixing something in a bowl. 

_She hasn't left yet?_

You don't have time to think further into this, you passing things too fast, and you're trying to take in your surroundings. From what you could gather, the house is very large, and all the rooms are furnished like a forest cottage. Dusty lavender walls, elaborate rugs, little pine green sofas with soft blankets draped over them... If you had grandparents, this is how you'd imagine their house to look like.

Frisk leads you up a winding staircase. As you reach the top of the stairway, there's another hall with a few doors on each side, and a _lot_ of framed pictures covering the walls. You're curious to see what they are of.

"Hold on, hold on. Slow down Frisk." You start tugging back on their grip, and they pull harder to get you to move faster. "What's the big rush?"

"I really want you to meet someone." Frisk huffs, "They're in my room-- er, I mean, office."

"Are they going to escape or something?" You turn your head to one particular photo that catches your eye, "I want to look around a bit."

Frisk stops and looks at the picture that you're staring at, then nod understandingly.

"Sure, we can look at stuff if you want."

They let go of your hand and you approach the wall. Frisk trails behind you, watching you examine the photos.

The frame that attracts you the most is a picture of all the monsters you've ever met and liked. It's more of a selfie, really. Papyrus is holding out the camera to catch everyone in the shot: Frisk, Toriel, Asgore, Undyne, Alphys, and Sans are all standing on a cliff facing away from a dusky horizon. Their faces silhouette against the soft light from the sky, but you can see the outline of their expressions. Everyone in the looks so energetic and happy.

But the thing that really sticks out is Sans.

He's standing a little off to the side, holding Frisk's hand tightly. He seems a worn down. The bags under his eyes are dark, like he hadn't been sleeping, let alone taking care of himself. You know this look all too well.

Although, the really strange thing about him is the obvious relief in his permanent grin.

_Huh._

Frisk tugs on your sleeve gently, getting your attention.

"That's the day we got out." They whisper, "When we broke the barrier."

"The barrier?" You mumble, eyes darting back to the picture.

"The spell that kept the monsters Underground." They say, gazing at you. Something changed in Frisk's demeanor, which surprised you. They're acting so mature with that faraway look in their eyes. 

As you stare back at the selfie, you feel something churning inside you. A heaviness settles in the atmosphere.

_Something happened before this. Something significant._

It's not just your gut that's telling you this, everything in you is screaming in curiosity. Frisk must've noticed this, because they squeezed your arm and lead you down the hall.

"I wanna show you our Halloween pictures!" They grin, all traces of seriousness gone. You wonder if you imagined the sudden change in their behavior. You decide to shake it off, you'll find out eventually what the story is behind the photo. When you're curious (which is rare, you don't feel the need to know certain things) you're very determined.

"M'kay." You stop dragging your feet and follow them down the hall, supposedly to their room. You both stop near their door, and Frisk points to a few photos hanging next to it. They look so proud, and you're a little confused. It's a picture of Frisk and Papyrus in their Halloween costumes. Frisk has a small red cape/scarf and black shorts with their short hair pinned back, like a superhero. They look adorable. Papyrus is wearing a striped shirt, blue jeans, and a short brown wig...

And then it hits you.

"Is this... What I think it is?" You say in awe.

Frisk giggles, absolutely elated.

"Depends on what you're thinking, but probably yes!" They bounce on their heels.

"You guys dressed up as each other."

"Yeah!!"

_This is too precious for words._

"Do you like it?" They ask hopefully, leaning forward a little to see your face.

_I love it._

"It's 'aight I guess." You shrug. Frisk's grin widens.

"It's 'aight you guess? Then why are you smiling so much?"

You didn't even notice you were smiling, and one you did, you squeezed your face to stop. It doesn't work very well. Frisk is bobbing up and down with joy.

"Yeah, it's really cool." You admit reluctantly. This kid has won you over.

"Dang straight it is." They say proudly, "Ooh ooh! Look at this one!"

Frisk points to a frame directly right of them and Papyrus. You turn and look, and your breath catches in your throat.

"Isn't uncle Sans cool?" Frisk says slyly.

Your mind went blank.

Sans is dressed up in a black suit, black tie... Everything is black, except his white shirt and a single rose pinned to his jacket. A matte silver pistol holster is strapped neatly to his side, the gun poking out from his jacket. His hand is raised near his head in a lazy half-wave half-salute way, and he's winking at the camera with... With...

With his tongue out.

A blue, luminescent tongue peeks from between his incisors.

_Well, now I know how he licked me._

This thought did not help the burning sensation in your cheeks.

_Good god._

"What exactly... Is his costume?" You say slowly. Frisk studies your face closely, smile wide on their face.

"He's a debonair hitman." They giggle, "I helped pick out the tie. Do you like it?"

You shrug, trying to shove down the heat in your face. You do think he looks good, but you aren't about to let Frisk know that.

"Heehee. Okay," Frisk takes your hand and opens her door, "I see how it is."

_What is that supposed to mean?_

You feel irritated as Frisk drags you into their room... Or office, as they liked to call it. They've really embraced their job as Ambassador of the monsters. You can see why the monsters chose them, they have the leadership to be a political figure. 

Seriously. You have take about ten steps in this house by yourself. Other than that, you've been led around by this small child.

Following a step behind Frisk, you enter their room. It's a cute little place: a small baby blue bed tucked in a corner, a desk with many, many papers stacked on it at the foot of the bed, and a windowseat on the far side of the room between two bookshelves. There's a mini garden on one of the shelves, filled with grass and a single yellow flower.

_This room is perfect for them._

Frisk lets go of your hand and skips into the room.

"Asriel! I'm back! And I brought a friend." They jump over to the mini garden.

_What? Nobody else is here..._

"Finally."

The flower _turns around_ to look at them, a displeased scowl on his face.

The flower has a face.

Why would you expect anything different? Anything /but/ a flower with a face would just be _way_ too strange.

"If you came back any later I would've burned down your bookshelf." He grumbles, "Nothing interesting ever happens around here."

"Aw, you missed me?" Frisk exclaims cheerfully. They're not taking note of the fact that the angry little flower implied that he would burn their room down in boredom.

"Hmph. Not really." Asriel grunts and catches eyes with you. His frown twitches a little as he stares at you. You stare back, of course. Who are you to step down from an aggressive staring contest?

"Frisk, who's the walking bean pole?" He asks bluntly.

"Who's the angry weed?" You retort immediately. He's taken aback, but then quickly regains his composure.

"Are you deaf? The kid obviously called me Asriel." He sneers, "Or if that's too difficult for you to say, you can call me Flowey, you brain-dead little--"

"Alrightio." Frisk interjects quickly, probably to keep ypu from murdering each other, "I suggest you guys be nice to each other. After all, we're going to be hanging out with each other for the day!"

"Wonderful." Asriel/Flowey(??) scoffs. Surprisingly, you aren't very irritated by him. Sure, you're a little peeved, but usually go into shut-down mode when it comes to giving a shit about angry people like him.

_And his sarcasm is strong. I can appreciate that._

The door creaks open and a familiar goat-like face peers into the room.

"Hello my child." Toriel addresses Frisk, then turns to you," Hello ___________. I see you all are getting along well...?"

"As if--" Asriel starts to say, but Frisk cuts him off.

"Yeah! We're about to play a board game or something."

Toriel raises a furry eyebrow, but doesn't question the interruption. She opens the door a little more and steps into the room, facing you.

"___________, I'm sorry we asked you to come in such short notice. I asked Undyne to babysit, but to be honest," She chuckles lightly, "I'm not really sure if she's the best candidate for watching Frisk."

"It's no problem. I didn't go to class today, so I needed something to do." You reassure her.

"Thank you so much." She says gratefully, "I'll be back home at 10 o'clock. Help yourself to anything in the fridge, and pizza will be delivered around 6:30. How much is your rate for..." She says as she reaches into her purse for money.

"Oh, don't worry about that." You wave her off, and she gives you a look of uncertainty.

"Are you sure? I'm more than capable of paying you." She asks, a small smile on her face.

"Definitely. It's an honor to serve the Ambassador of monsters." You give Frisk a little bow, sending them into a fit of giggles.

"Thank you so much." She ducks her head respectfully, flustering you a bit, "Frisk, be good, won't you?"

"Come on mum," Frisk sighs, "You know me, when have I ever caused trouble?"

Asriel snorts at the question.

Toriel cocks her head and puts a hand on her hip thoughtfully.

"Where do I start...?" She says teasingly.

"Actually, don't answer that." Frisk quickly corrects themself.

"That's what I thought. Alright," Toriel turns to leave, "I'm leaving. Why don't you children go downstairs and play boardgames with everyone? You know how much Papyrus likes Chutes and Ladders."

"Okay!" Frisk chirps and waves, "See you later mum! I love you!"

"Love you too, my child." Toriel blushes and waves back, "I love you, Asriel."

She pauses.

...

"..........I love you too..." Asriel mumbles, barely audible. You see Toriel's ear twitch and her blush burns a little brighter.

And with a content little huff, she leaves.

Frisk jumps up and grabs a pot of dirt from their desk.

"C'mon Asriel! We're going downstairs."

Suddenly, Asriels pops up from the dirt in the pot Frisk is holding. You look at the mini garden where he once was rooted to find an empty plot of grass.

_Magic._

Magic seems to be the answer to everything these days.

Frisk skips out of the room with Asriel in their tiny hands.

"Come on ___________! All our friends are downstairs."

You smile a little to yourself. You admit to yourself that you're pretty damn excited to hang out with everyone.

"Coming!" You call out and chase after them.

Little did you know that when Frisk said "all our friends", they literally meant _all their friends._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SANS IS GONNA BE HERE AND HE'S GONNA TEASE THE FUCK OUTTA READER AND SHIT'S GONNA GO DOWN I'M SO EXCITED ARE YOU EXCITED??


	22. good god #22 - oh, brother.

“fancy meeting you here.”

I feel my smile widen slightly as I see ___________ run into the livingroom after Frisk and… That flower. Her eyes catch my gaze and she skids to a halt. First thing I notice: She's in shabby condition. Definitely still fighting a hangover. She's breathing heavily, probably from racing through the halls, and her hair is wrapped up in a messy bun with a lot of flyaways, a few stray pieces in her face. She's wearing black skinny jeans, mismatching socks, and grey sweatshirt that reads "THIS IS MY TOO TIRED TO FUNCTION SWEATSHIRT" in bold, white letters on the front. She definitely couldn't care less what people think of her, she looks kinda like a homeless person.

_a homeless person that i find weirdly attractive._

She stares at me for about twenty seconds. Or at least, I think she's staring at me. She looks kinda like she's spacing out. I clear my throat, grabbing her full attention.

"like what you see?" I say sweetly.

She jumps a bit, like she hasn't noticed I was there at all. Has she always been this spacey? I'm not sure. Maybe it's 'cuz I'm here. She takes a few steps towards the couch, watching me carefully.

“Sans.” She breathes, “Figures.”

“nice to see you too, girly.” I wink. She shoves her hands into her hoodie pockets and looks away. D'awww. Embarrassed much? 

I open my mouth to say something that was sure to get her flustered, but I was quickly interrupted by Paps.

“BOARDGAMES!!” He shrieks and plops himself next to Frisk, who’s sitting in front a cupboard under the TV pulling out a box filled to the brim with games. They set down Asriel on the coffee table behind them.

“Whatchu guys wanna play?” Frisk asks, pulling out Monopoly, Sorry, Chutes and Ladders, and a few others games I don't recognize. I really don't care what we play, but everyone seems to have strong opinions. Less effort for me.

“Hmmm… How ‘bout Sorry?” Undyne says, sitting herself on the other side of Frisk.

“Lame.” Asriel scoffs, “We should play Cards Against Humanity.”

_ugh._

I walk to the other side of the room and fall onto the small green sofa behind Asriel. As I sink into the cushions I sigh contentedly and watch Papyrus, Frisk and Undyne bicker over what games they should choose. Paps and Undyne are very blunt and loud about why their favorites are the best, whereas Frisk is taking a logical and statistic sort of approach. I wouldn't be surprised if they busted out some graphs and a few pie charts.

_heh._

Asriel is quiet for the most part. He occasionally drops a sarcastic or rude comment, other than that he's cooperative.

I can tell he's changing. He used to be way worse. Constantly stealing, spitting insults Frisk and Toriel, and just being downright evil. Actually, maybe evil is the wrong word.

Ungrateful?

Meh.

A brat?

Mmm...

Yeah, that's more like it.

Anyways, despite his sudden… Eh… “change”, which is almost too good to be true, I just can't trust him. Now believe me, I know people have potential to be good. But we're talkin’ about a flower with no soul. He has no soul, and no essence similar to a soul. Absolutely nothing. He lacks _any ability_ to feel love, empathy, regret… All that great stuff.

Whatever. As long as the kid is happy, I'll put up with him.

But I still won't trust him.

I prop my feet on the table, right next to Asriel. He swivels his puny flower head to look at me. He doesn't look happy with my presence.

_aw... my feelings. they hurt._

I nudge his pot with my foot and smile at his extra-nicely, just to freak him out. It works pretty well, he shrinks away with a glint of fear in his eyes. Part of me feels a bad, but I learned after a few resets that when it comes to this little shrub, I don't have the luxury to be merciful.

_gotta let him know who's in control._

I contemplate poking at him a bit more, wondering just how much I can harass him before Frisk notices and chews me out.

"You guys really like each other."

My eyes flit over to ___________, who edged herself near the table and is looking at Asriel strangely. In turn, Asriel looks at her in the same way you'd look at a pile of trash. I try my best to not throw his pot against the wall.

"yeah." I say, gritting my teeth slightly, "i'd say we're buds.

Asriel perks up a bit at her approach, a sly smile on his face. 

"We really like each other." His voice drips with sarcasm, "I'm his best friend, we make matching bead bracelets together, he named his pet rock after me and I'm going to be his best man at your wedding."

Every bone in my body tenses. 

Asriel grins at ___________, then shoots me a look of sickening satisfaction.

_he. is. dead to me._

Without moving my head, I glance over at Frisk. They must've spoke to Asriel about everything. Why wouldn't they? I didn't specifically tell them not to talk around. I should've made them sign a contract of secrecy or something. I feel my insides churn as ___________ tilts her head, wondering just what the little weed meant.

Papyrus and Undyne don't notice the evident conflict happening right behind them, but Frisk does. They turn their face to me, their hair bobbing with the movement of their head. They're cute for a split second, looking from me to ___________ to Asriel. I shake my head slowly at them, my eyes darting to ___________.

_how do you talk to someone without talking to them?_

I try desperately to communicate with Frisk with my eyes. At first they were confused, but as it slowly starts to dawn on them that Asriel is being a little brat, their face twists from confusion to fear.

As for ___________, she wasn't getting the message.

"What." ___________ says calmly. Too calmly. Did she hear what he said?

_please tell me she didn't hear what he said._

"Oh come on," Asriel continues, "from what I heard, at the party you guys were--"

"Let's play Cards Against Humanity!!" Frisk shouts, startling Papyrus and Undyne from their argument, "C'mon ___________! Help me set up."

"Why can't I do--" Undyne begins to ask, but Frisk shoots their hand out and cover Undyne's mouth before she could say anything more. She scrunches up her nose and snatches the kid's arm away from her face. Undyne hisses at Frisk, who shakes their head and whispers something to Undyne. Her eyes go wide with realization.

"Uh, yeah! C'mere ya wimp." Undyne waves ___________ over, "I bet you'd be great at this game, by the way."

Meanwhile, Paps sits among the piles of puzzle pieces and board games, looking extremely confused. But not nearly as confused as ___________. She looks completely lost, looking around the room questioningly. She makes eye contact with Paps, and they both shrug simultaneously, like they've accepted their fate to be out of the loop. She frowns at Asriel one last time then walks over to Undyne to help set up Cards Against Humanity. Not my favorite game, but I think it's out of the question to defy Asriel at the moment.

That doesn't mean I won't intimidate him, though.

So as ___________ sits down and gets to work with setting up, I push myself off the cushions and lean over towards the little potted plant.

 _"someone's going to rot in the compost bin tonight."_ I rumble in a low voice.

Asriel squeaks in fright and tries his best to shift himself away from me, but the pot won't budge. Mainly cuz my hand is there. Asriel looks absolutely furious. And scared.

_just how i like it._

Asriel looks over to Frisk, hoping that they'd see what's happening and come rescue him. They're in deep conversation with ___________, who is listening with great regard to what they're saying. She wasn't lying when she said she likes children more than adults. When Asriel sees he's going to have to fend for himself, he turns to me with a scowl that could curdle dairy.

"Listen," He hisses quietly, "If you're so bothered by what I said, why don't you just come clean and tell her?"

"i don't know what you're talking about." I say absentmindedly, fiddling with one of his leaves. He tugs away and scoffs at me.

"Ohhhh I think you do." He rolls his eyes, "I bet everyone knows by now. It's pretty obvious really. Do you know how blatantly obvious you're being? It's pretty pathetic."

"watch your mouth kid."

Asriel ignores my threat and continues with a smile.

"Apparently, you scared off a few guys who were hanging around her... You danced with her... And I heard a few /other/ things happened at the party." The weed drawls on, "The only one who doesn't get it... Is her. Even with all the hints from you and your friends, she never thinks of you romantically. Now, why is that? Why is she ruling out the one possibility that's suggests that you're into her?"

"that's not true." I say placidly. I'm sure this isn't true. But even when I tell myself this, there's a voice in the back of my head that whispers doubt.

"Is it really? How can you be sure?"

Magic is pumping through my head, making it difficult to hear background noise. Why does she rule out that possibility? Is it because she's hurt? I quickly cycle through all the reasons she might not get it. Some are more plausible than others...

_i had it worked out in my head. why am i worrying now?_

"Maybe..." Asriel whispers softly, "S h e c a n ' t s e e y o u t h e w a y y o u s e e h e r."

 **"alright."** I say loudly, startling Asriel, "that's enough sugar for you. why don't you sit down, buddy."

My bones burn, both from embarrassment and anger. I barely have to flick my hand and his pot flies up, off the table and onto the ground next to Frisk. They look at Asriel, a little surprised, then look at me. The color drains from their face.

"Uncle Sans..." The say carefully, "Are you feeling okay? You look a little--"

"SANS, PUT THE FURNITURE DOWN." Papyrus interrupts, "THIS IS NO TIME FOR BOONDOGGLING OR HORSEPLAY! WE'RE PLAYING CARDS."

I slowly realizing why my head is rushing with an electrifying sensation.

_oops._

Pillows, a lamp, a small rocking chair and a few other pieces of furniture are levitating high off the ground with a strong magic aura around them... And my eye is burning. I haven't used magic like this in a while, and I didn't even notice I was using it. Everyone looks at me with the same concern they gave me a long, long time ago, and ___________ is staring at me with an expression I can't read.

_shit._

I slowly lower the lamps and chairs, trying to play out my sudden outburst as if it was intended.

"i _lamp_ very sorry guys." I laugh sheepishly as I sink back into the couch, " _eye_ was just messing around with magic and it went a little off the _rocker_."

"IT'S OKAY BROTHER, JUST BE MORE--" Paps pauses. Right on cue, I pointed to the rocking chair across the table and wiggle my eyebrows at him. A look of horror comes over his face.

"ACTUALLY, IT'S NOT OKAY!" Paps shrieks and Undyne falls on the floor laughing, "SOME OF THOSE PUNS AREN'T EVEN PUNS!! UNACCEPTABLE!!"

"you're smiling though."

"I AM AND I HATE IT!!" He slams his hand on the ground. Undyne lying limp on the ground from laughing, and Frisk is face-down on her belly giggling. Asriel turns away, but when I tilt to the side, I can see a small smile on his evil little mug. Warmth surges through my bones and I relax a bit.

_laughing is great._

As I watch everyone calm down from my magic accident, I feel someone shift into the seat next to me. I turn my head and see ___________ tucking her legs underneath her, trying to get comfortable on the lumpy couch.

_not exactly who i was expecting, but hey, i'm not complaining._

"what's up?" I say nonchalantly. Well, as nonchalantly as possible. She seems pretty chill, but then again, she's usually like this, so I'm not sure what to expect.

_when am i ever sure?_

"The ceiling." She says bluntly as she tosses some pillows on the floor to lean back into the seat.

"sassy." I comment, a smirk growing on my face. She casts a satisfied look at me and shrugs.

"Sassy is what I do. Hey, actually," She turns around to face me, her back against the armrest, "there's something up besides the ceiling."

"the sky?" I chuckle, a thin line of sweat beading on my forehead. She pauses for a second and nods.

"That was pretty clever, I'll give you that." She raises an eyebrow of approval, "But really, I was wondering..."

My smile falters, and magic courses through me in anticipation. I keep my eye under control, but I can't help but feel anxious.

_she's probably going to ask what the hell i'm playing at, flirting with her and all._

She crosses her arms and glances furtively at Asriel.

"...What exactly did Asriel say to me?" She mumbles.

...

_she didn't hear him._

_she **legitimately** didn't hear him. ___

__The likelihood of me destroying Asriel in a fire has decreased by twenty percent. It /was/ a hundred percent._ _

__"Well...?" ___________ cocks her head, waiting for an explanation._ _

__"don't mind him." I shrug, "he was just being an ass."_ _

__"Oh." She slumps into the couch. I feel a little bad for not being totally truthful, but ya know... A guy's gotta do what a guy's gotta do._ _

...

"By the way..." she says, digging her hands into her hoodie pocket, "You... You shouldn't let what he says get to you. He's just a sad, angry flower who's main goal is to make others miserable... Because he's miserable himself."

She pulls her hood over her head and snuggles even deeper into the cushions like she's trying to hide from me. 

"And... um..." Her voice gets quieter, "He's just trying to irritate you. Don't let him get you down. Cuz that's his goal. Don't let that fucker get what he wants." 

She looks away from me, and I swear I can see a faint blush dusting her cheeks. She clears her throat and curls herself up a little. 

"Uhm... Also, when you're really down..." She hesitates, "...it kinda freaks me out."

"heh. does it? maybe i should do it more." I purr and lean towards her, making her jolt.

"Oh har har." She flushes and chucks a pillow at me, but really I didn't have to dodge it. The pillow went right by me and hit the lamp next to me. Paps screeches something along the lines of "SIGH, YOU HAVE NO RESPECT FOR ANYTHING." and goes back to his conversation with Frisk. I look at ___________ with an amused grin plastered on my face. 

"wow. i bet asriel could throw better than you," I wiggle my fingers at her teasingly, "and he doesn't have arms."

"I will punch you." She scoffs, then pauses at her words.

"But really now." She says seriously, "Don't let him get to you. I can tell... How do I say this... When you're upset. It's a little worrying."

I stare at her.

Long and hard.

She holds my stare for a few seconds, then scoots herself as far as she can away from me.

_that's a new record. i wonder how red i can get her..._

"Shut up." She says irritatedly, looking away.

"i didn't say anything." I say innocently, but I can't hide the mirth in my voice.

"You were thinking. It's annoying." Her face burning red. Fantastic. I move close, very close to her and rest my chin on her shoulder.

"if only you knew what i was thinking about..." I breathe on her neck.

She shrieks and grabs the nearest cushion, hitting me _in the face_ with all her strength. Which to be honest, isn't that much force, but it's enough knock me off her. I blink lazily, recovering from the blow. She raises the pillow again, preparing to come down with another hit. Her face is flushed as she's breathing heavily, and I snort a laugh.

_was she holding her breath?_

"Don't test me." She threatens, lifting the pillow slightly. I cover my mouth to stifle my incoming laughter.

"mercy, mercy please." I put my hands up in surrender, "i made a mistake."

"Damn straight you did." She lowers her ammo slowly and looks at me victoriously.

...

"hey." I nudge her with my elbow, "thanks for caring."

"Don't get used to it." She smiles softly and elbows me back.

***

"Okay, the new card is..." You pull out a black card, "I'm sorry Professor, but I couldn't complete my homework because of 'blank'."

"Oh!" Frisk squeals, "I have a REALLY good one."

"don't tell anyone, kid." Sans chuckles, dropping a white card into the middle of the table.

"MINE WILL WIN THIS TIME, I'M CERTAIN!" Papyrus yells, slamming his card down dramatically.

"Psh." Asriel states simply, putting down his card.

I will _destroy_ you all!" Undyne roars.

"Alright, relax. Everybody get theirs in?" You ask while reaching for the cards.

"YEAH PUNK, FLIP 'EM ALREADY!"

"Should I get you a dictionary and make you look up the definition of 'relax'?" You snort and flip over the white cards while Undyne giggles uncontrollably.

"Alright, first card." You clear your throat, "I'm sorry Professor, but I couldn't complete my homework because of 'swishing wine around and sniffing it like a big fancy man' nnha ha hah!"

You giggle into your hand, and Frisk shoots you a pleased look. You know who set _that_ on down.

"That was good. Okay, next one..." You sniff, "I'm sorry Professor, but I couldn't complete my homework because of 'the news outlet that never checks it's facts.' Hah, that's very true actually."

You set down the card and pick up the next one.

"Uhmmm... I'm sorry Professor, but I couldn't complete my homework because of 'aggressive Legolas hair flips'. Heh, that one is one of my favorites."

Next card.

"Last one! Better be good." You blow a stray piece of hair out of you face and pause dramatically, "Okay. I'm sorry Professor, but I couldn't complete my homework because of..."

_Oh my god._

"I... Love this card..." You breathe.

"SAY IT." Undyne demands.

"Hehe... I'm sorry Professor, but I couldn't complete my homework because 'I was busy not caring.' Hahah!" You let out an ugly snort, "Who did this one?"

"yours truly." Sans flicks his hand in a lazy sort of bow and takes the black card for a point.

"What?! How do you find _that_ funnier than aggressive Legolas hair flips?!" Undyne says furiously, standing up and throwing her cards to the ground.

"what can i say," Sans leans into the couch with his arms behind his head, "i know my girl."

"You're gir--" You start to say, but you're cut off.

"UGH. Just date already." Asriel spits while shuffling through his cards. Everyone freezes.

_What?_

"What? What's that supposed to mean?" You ask slowly.

"Exactly what it sounds like." Asriel says while inspecting a card.

"What... You're ridiculous. I can't... I..." You try and grasp the right words, but the only words that are coming out are the wrong ones.

"He's kinda like a brother to me."


	23. rule #23 - feelin' down? you got yourself a one-way ticket to hugtown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys crack me up I love you so much holy shit
> 
> Hope you like the chapter, updating soon!
> 
>  
> 
> **INCREDIBLE ART BY YOU:**
> 
>  
> 
> [mmmm whacha sayyyy, mmmm that you only meant to hook me up with my crush and ended up brozoning me, well of course ya did](http://gettingwhatigive.tumblr.com/post/138772650669/psychotic-muffin-gettingwhatigive-rejection)
> 
>  
> 
> [wake me up WAKE ME UP INSIDE](http://gettingwhatigive.tumblr.com/post/138770377799/chromas-detersination-okay-so-the-update-for)
> 
>  
> 
> [KARMA BIIIIIIiiiiscuit…? (NO CUSS WORDS)](http://gettingwhatigive.tumblr.com/post/138799257979/emilijuke-a-scene-from-monster-lead-me-home-by)

The room falls silent.

Asriel’s scowl slowly twists into a wide grin as he stares at you.

“A brother, you say.” He says amusedly.

“Yeah…” You say slowly.

_Not really what I meant to say… It just… Slipped out._

_Oh well. What can ya do._

“THIS IS FANTASTICAL!!” Papyrus jumps up, rushes to the couch and picks you up into a big, bear-like hug. You gasp for air, struggling to loosen his grip. This is the second time today he’s crushed your ribs in a hug.

“MAY I BE YOUR BROTHER TOO?? I MAKE REALLY GOOD SPAGHETTI.” He bribes.

“Y-yeah,” You inhale, “but if you don't let me down, my lungs will collapse.”

Nodding with approval (and a little concern), he plops you on the couch and skips back to his seat next to Frisk. Undyne and Frisk exchange a furtive glance, then quickly look down to their cards. 

_Why is everyone so fascinated by their cards all the sudden?_

You look over to Sans who is staring at the pale lavender wall, his eye sockets empty of light. You furrow your eyebrows.

_Did I say something wrong?_

You honestly wouldn't be surprised if you did, you have a gift for offending people. Or maybe it’s a curse? Eh, it's a little bit of both.

_Whatever. If they're really bothered by something, they'll tell me. If not, their problem._

“SOMEONE GO ALREADY!!” Papyrus sighs.

“Chill. It's my turn now.” Asriel says, pulling a black card from the pile, “‘blank’. High five bro.”

“Oooh this is gonna be good.” Undyne says with not as much enthusiasm as she usually has. Frisk shuffles through her deck in agreement.

You look through your cards and pick out “Poorly-timed Holocaust jokes.” for your answer.

_I'll definitely win this turn._

Undyne and Asriel are bickering over if white is actually a color again. The tension in the atmosphere is gone as quick as it came. You drop your card into the middle and notice there's only one card missing. You reflexively look at Sans again.

He's going through his cards slowly, his grin slightly lopsided.

_Is he… moping?_

You nudge him with your foot lightly. He doesn't look at you.

“‘sup.” He says, picking out a card.

“You okay?” You whisper.

He drops his card in the pile, then leans back and gives you a big smile. His vibes are a little sketchy.

“who, me? i'm great. i'm _’fantastical.’_ ” He says. You weren't sure, but you thought you could hear sarcasm.

You decide to shake it off.

“Okay.” You says softly.

Asriel scoops up the white cards and looks through them. Every once in a while, he’d peek at you through the deck.

Everyone is being so weird.

***

_He's definitely not okay._

Sans has been moping around ever since Flowey’s awkward outburst. His shoulders are more hunched and he didn't laugh as hard as he did before. Sometimes he'd nudge you or shift a fraction of an inch closer to you, making you flush. Why are you noticing every little thing he's doing?

_I have no idea._

**DING DONG**

Undyne’s head snaps up.

“PIZZA!!” She roars and rushes for the door. Papyrus nyehehehs and bounds after her.

“Pizza? Already? It's nowhere near 6:30.” You say, puzzled.

“Undyne couldn't wait to eat. Neither could I” Frisk claps happily, “So we did a vote between the four of us and the majority agreed to pizza.”

_Ah, true politics._

You hear yelling at the doorway and you're filled with concern. You stand up from the couch and head towards the hallway.

“Where are YOU going?” Asriel asks rudely.

“Going to find some weed killer.” You say sarcastically.

“can you get me a few gallons of that?” Sans asks absentmindedly.

“Mhm.” You hum as you walk into the hallway. You see Undyne and Papyrus crowding the door where the pizza guy is standing. There's loud chatter between then, and an occasional response from a voice that sounds a little familiar. You approach them, trying to place where exactly you know that voice from. 

_School? Maybe?_

“‘scuse me Undyne.” you tap her shoulder, getting her attention. She turns around, grin wide on her face.

“Oh, hey punk! Look who's here!”

It wasn't until you saw his face that it clicked.

“Luke?” You say, taken aback.

Luke, who's wearing a uniform for Domino's, looks just as surprised to see you as you are to see him.

“___________? What're you doing here?” He asks, wrinking his forehead in confusion, “Why weren't you in class today?”

“Oh, ah--”

“SHE'S BABYSITTING FRISK TODAY!!” Papyrus shouts happily. Luke give you a ‘really now?’ look and you shrug.

“Cool. Well, if you need notes, just let me know.” He offers, “Today we worked with Chinese watercolor. You really missed out.”

“Did I?” You groan. Watercolor is one of your favorite styles. “Well, shit. I'll have to talk to Professor Harvey for extra supplies.”

“I got you covered. I snagged a few ink blocks before I left.”

“Wow, thank you!” You smile gratefully, “You're a life saver--”

“ARE WE JUST GOING TO STAND HERE PIZZALESS WHILE YOU GUYS TALK AWAY?” Papyrus asks concernedly. Undyne impatiently bounces on her heels.

“Oh, shoot. Sorry.” Luke nods an apology, “The total is $22.34, and would you like any condiments or…”

“Ketchup would be nice.” You say, digging through your pockets for cash, “Maybe some of that red--”

“--pepper stuff? Got it.”

You look at him strangely.

“How did you know I like spicy pepper…?”

Luke rolls his eyes.

“Come on, ___________, I'm your regular barista. Therefore, I know your preference.” He laughs, “Sometimes you ask the stupidest questions.”

That brought a smile on.

“Alright then.” You hand him twenty-five dollars, take the two pizzas from his arms and one each to Undyne and Papyrus. They've been standing patiently for a while, but now that they had the pizza they shriek happily and sprint back to the livingroom.

Luke blinks.

“They're pretty…” He scratches his head, “Weird.”

“All the best people are.” You say simply, crossing your arms.

There's a short, awkward silence between you two. You personally don't give a shit about trivial things like awkwardness (in fact you often use awkward moments to your advantage), but you like Luke. He's a good guy, so you decide to break the ice.

“So, I know you work at Zoka.” You raise an eyebrow, “...and I'm sure delivering pizza isn’t a hobby of yours…”

“Hah, yeah. Second job.” He shrugs, “Gotta pay the bills. AND the loans. AND necessities. Basically, I have no money.”

“Ah, I get it man. I'm lucky to have parents generous enough to support me, but they spare /no/ change.” You shake your head, “A few days ago I ate half a stick of butter for breakfast.”

“Wow.” He says in awe, “The glamourous life of a college student.”

“Mhm, it’s pretty bad.”

“Yeah…” Luke shifts his messenger bag onto his shoulder, “So, um, anyways… I was wondering… If you're doing okay.”

…

“What?”

“Well, you're not in class as much anymore. Ol’ Harvey is worried. Many people are wondering, ya know?” He shrugs.

You pause, trying to absorb what he’s saying. It's not getting through to you.

“No, I don't know.” You say finally, “If you're talking about grades and all that, I was going to email the Proffessor about my absences.”

“That isn’t what I’m talking about.” Luke says deadpan, “People are concerned, ___________.”

You cock your head.

“Why?”

_Why do they care?_

“Well, absences are one thing,” Luke says, totally in awe with your incredible inability to understand people, “but like, just look at yourself!”

You look down at yourself. It's the same thing you always see, mismatched socks, jeans baggy sweatshirt… it's comforting.

Puzzled, you glance back to Luke who's looking at you incredulously.

“Not literally.” He rolls his eyes, “Just… Nevermind.”

“M’kay.” You drop the subject, not feeling up for asking what the hell he meant. He digs through his bag, grabs a handful of ketchup packets and pepper toppings and hands them to you.

“Nearly forgot those.” He turns to leave, “Why do you want ketchup when you ordered pizza?”

You freeze, ketchup packets in hand. 

_I don't have to say who they're for._

“Why do you have ketchup when you deliver pizza?” You retort. Luke smiles at your question.

“Touché.” He nods, “Anyways, I'll leave you to it. Tell Brandon I said hi. Oh, and just so you know…”

He hesitates.

“...You look really hungover.”

“Thank you.” You say genuinely. He smirks at you and walks off to his car.

Grasping the condiments in your hands, you shut the door with your hip and walk back to the group.

“What took you so long?!” Undyne says, her voice muffled by the pizza in her mouth.

“Just catching up with Luke.” You say as you amble towards her. When you get to the coffee table, you drop the pepper and the ketchup packets. Sans looks at you questioningly.

“Oh, we knew that.” Asriel scoffs, “We could hear you all the way from here. You're noisy.”

“OH, HUMAN.” Papyrus cuts in, “WHILE YOU'RE STILL STANDING, CAN YOU GO TO THE KITCHEN AND GET EATING UTENSILS??”

“Sure. But why do you need plates? Just use napkins.”

“YOU MAY EAT WITH A SIMPLE NAPKIN, BUT THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL NOT PARTICIPATE IN SUCH BARBARIC ACTIVITIES.”

You smile in spite of yourself. Papyrus reminds you of Brandon so much, its hard to contain a grin.

“‘Aight. I'll be back.” You turn around and head for the kitchen.

“Oh! Can you make some tea or something?” Undyne calls after you.

“Mm, sure. Do you know if Toriel has coffee?” You ask. You haven't had coffee all day, and quite frankly, momma needs a drink.

“Probably. Look around.” Undyne shouts.

_”Look around”? How helpful._

As yoy enter the warm, cozy kitchen, you hear Papyrus yell from the livingroom:

“BROTHER, WHERE ARE YOU GOING??”

“kitchen.”

“BUT… WHY??”

“ketchup.”

“BUT WE HAVE KETCHUP HERE, BROTHER!! ___________ GOT SOME…”

“heh, i know. i’m gonna _ketchup_ with ___________.”

You hear the very distinct shriek of Papyrus when he hears a pun, and Sans’ muffled footsteps approaching the kitchen. You feel your heartbeat speeding up and a pinch of anxiety in your chest. At least you know why you’re feeling this way… To some extent. Sans has been moping ever since you called him your brother, you've gathered that much. You don't understand why though. Would it bother you if Sans called you his sister?

You quickly picture him in your mind. Leaning back into the sofa, his hooded eyes trained lazily on Asriel’s.

_”oh, ___________? heh, she's like a sister to me._

Your stomach twists into a knot. This image… The image of Sans saying something like that made you feel… Depressed. You groan and lean yourself on the kitchen counter.

_This is why I don’t deal with feelings. I have no idea what I'm feeling, and it makes me extremely uncomfortable._

“hey.”

You jump up, nearly hitting your head on a cabinet. Sans takes a smal step back from you and gives a half-hearted laugh.

“sorry. didn't mean to scare you outta your skin.” He says, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Oh har har.” You say, reaching for the cabinet door you nearly bashed your head on to get the plates Papyrus so desperately needed.

“So, what're you here for?” You ask with an edge of nervousness.

“getting some ketchup.” He says simply. He turns the opposite direction and walks to the mini blue refridgerator.

“M’kay.” You say, pulling out five plates: one for everyone, except you. You turn on the gas stove and set a kettle on the flame to boil. You dig around a few drawers looking for tea, any kind of tea, but no luck. You turn to Sans. He’s leaning on the counter opposite of you, sipping on a bottle of ketchup.

“Do you by any chance know where the tea is? And by hopefully a better chance, coffee?” You ask hopefully.

“yup.”

_Okay, he's being real short with me here._

You inhale, attempting to calm your nerves.

“Are you okay?” You ask carefully.

Sans stares at you with his ‘all-knowing’ pinprick eyes, making you shift uneasily.

“tibia honest… not really.” He puts his bottle down on the counter, “i’m feeling a lil down.”

He pushes himself off the counter and saunters to you. The tugging feeling in your chest got tighter, and you freeze in place. Sans stops walking within arms reach of you.

“say, ___________…” he says softly, “do your bro a solid and give me a hug?”

There wasn't even a split second of consideration for you.

“No.” You reject immediately.

“why?” Sans asked, his gaze fixed on your face.

“Because… Be… cause…” You stumble, “I don't want to.”

“your brother is feeling down.” Sans’ says sadly, “you won't even give him a hug? harsh.”

“You're not my brother.” You say defensively. Sans’ sad smile twitches, and you sense a slight change-- a new touch of smugness in his demeanor.

_Oh no._

“not your brother?” He say slowly.

“You are. You are my brother. Kinda.” You say quickly. Sans’ grin widens a little with amusement.

“you're contradicting yourself.”

“I'm…” Your eyebrows furrow. You don’t know what to say to him.

But he sure as hell knows what to say to you.

“you look a lil down too, sis.” He says silkily, “i bet /you/ need a hug.”

“Wha--”

You didn't have time to react. Sans takes his hands out of his pockets and grabs you by the waist, pulling you towards him. You feel heat rush to your face when he pulls you to close to him, his hand resting on the small of your back. You're slightly shorter than him, so you fit snugly under his jaw, your face buried in his shoulder. Smoke, Grillby’s, Sans...

_Smells… Nice._

…

_*internally screaming*_

You try and break free of his grip, but he holds on tight. Your face is on fire.

“Let go of me.” You hiss, wiggling your shoulders to get loose.

“does a hug from your bro make you feel better?” He says quietly. You feel his bones through his sweatshirt: They’re quivering with laughter.

“I don’t-- I can’t-- No--” You whisper frantically, “I swear to god-- If you don’t let go--”

“hmmm… you seem awfully nervous. something eating at you--” He hesitates.

“girly?”

**smack.**

Sans lets go of you quickly, and you back away from him until you hit the counter. Panting, you put down your stinging hand. Your heart is beating faster than the time you raced Brandon up the staircase to your apartment. It’s beating so quickly and your face is so red that the concern of heatstroke crosses your mind briefly. But then that thought is overruled by a much bigger realization:

_I slapped him._

_I fucking slapped him._

You're filled with dread as Sans lifts his head to look at you. He's probably furious. Why wouldn't he be? You bitchslapped him across the face. Anyone would be mad at that.

_Even if he his mad, that's his problem. I told him to stop._

You tell that to yourself, but aching in your chest that you can't understand _doesn't want_ him to be angry with you.

“you slapped me.”

You gulp.

“you…” he looks at you with a twinkle in his eye, “hit me across the face.”

Your dread is replaced with uncertainty.

“heh.” He closes his eyes.

“hahahah!” You watch in bewilderment as he throws his head back laughing.

“What.” You demanded. He wipes a tear from his eye and shoves his hands in his pockets.

“awh… man…” He sighs contentedly, “i didn’t think you’d be that bothered by it.”

_Bothered by what, the hug?_

"I wasn't bothered by it." You deny with a scowl.

Sans' grin is so wide, genuine and... Relieved that your frown falters.

"babygirl." He says, his voice shaking with laughter, "you--"

"Slapped you? I know, I know!" You frown (and blush) at this new nickname, "But I... It wasn't a big deal!!" You say furiously.

He looks like he might break down laughing again, but shockingly enough, he didn't.

"heheh, you're right." He nods, taking a step forward, "not a big deal."

You freeze up against the counter. Your heart is pounding in your ears, and you're desperately screaming at it to calm down.

"yeah. no big deal..." He narrows his eyes at you, his smile turning from genuine to complacent. He reaches his hand out and bops your nose.

"...cuz i know i've already won."

And in a split second, he was gone.

You stand there, flooded with emotions that you couldn't separate or identify. Irritation, confusion, anger, warmth... So many twists and turns in your chest that you don't know how to feel about. **You don't know how to feel about feelings.**

You sink to the ground, trying to gather your thoughts, and you're so disoriented that you don't notice the tea kettle whistling.


	24. Rule #24 - Some Sins Are Justified.

Brandon swings open the lobby door and steps outside. He shivers as the wind nips at his cheeks in cold greeting. He digs his hands in his leather jacket to protect them from the brisk air, ducks his head and strides over towards his black convertible. Within about three steps of the door he breaks into a run. He wants so desperately to be in his car, and he wants to be in bed even more. He wants protection from this god-forsaken weather. But he knows he can't skip work. Not today. He's so close to not making his rental payment and he won't risk taking the day off.

_”Why can’t you let mom and dad take care of it?”_

_”Dad asked about you in his letter. What am I supposed to tell him, that you’re barely getting by?”_

_“No, I won't have you split the check. I can pay for it. Let me treat you! ...Please.”_

_”Brandon, I… I'm a little worried. Just… take a little cash, I promise it's not a big deal!”_

Your haunting voice echoes in his mind and he shudders. Partly from the cold, partly from the guilt. He shakes his head and walks on. As he reaches his car, he fumbles through his pockets in search of his keys.

_”Brandon, have you seen my letter?”_

His stomach twists into a knot.

_”Hm? Oh ___________! Sorry, I was spacing out. What did you say?”_

_”My letter from mom, I can't find it.”_

_”Letter? No, I haven't seen it. Have you looked around?”_

Brandon breathes in deeply, willing the your voice to leave his head.

_I'm doing this for her. This is for her sake._

He calms down a bit while he continues looking for his keys. He puts his hand into the back pocket of his jeans, praying to god they’re there. His fingers touch a cold, ragged piece of metal and he sighs with relief.

_Thank god. I thought I was gonna die out here._

He clicks the unlock button on the remote, opens the door and slides into the front seat. He inserts the key into the ignition, twists, and the engine rumbles to life. As he backs out of his parking space, his gaze falls upon the open letter on his dashboard.

_”Brandon, I've looked everywhere! Are you sure you haven't seen it?”_

Guilt floods his insides, making him wince.

**You feel your sins crawling on your back.**

He hits his head on the steering wheel, trying to focus on his current task. No need to stress out before work. He drives out of the apartment parking lot, outside of campus and heads for Grillby’s.

_Mm… Grillby’s…_

He relaxes his shoulders and sits back into his seat. Thinking about the warmth of the small restaurant is comforting to him. He actually wanted to talk to Grillby about a new cocktail that he invented with you. Of course, since you helped him make it, it's a stupidly strong drink that only you and maybe a horse would buy.

_Hey, maybe Aaron will have it._

He chuckles to himself.

_So glad I forced myself out of bed._

He turns on the radio and turns down the volume. He doesn't want to blare music at the moment, he just wants to have some background noise to ease his nerves. He breathes in deeply, and he feels his worries melting away with the music.

_I like to stick to walls... Observing conversation, lifting them when they fall…_

Fire Escape plays softly over the speakers. The sun is setting over the old suburban neighborhood, the sky tinted softly with red and pink. Your favorite colors. He watches the trees sway in the brisk winter wind. As he passes a small, dirty yellow house, he catches sight of Monster Kid and Napstablook lying on the front porch in the shade of an evergreen tree. Monster Kid peeks out of one eye as he drives by, and upon seeing Brandon’s car he bolts up, jumping up and down with excitement.

_Aw, he recognizes me!_

Brandon waves happily at MK, who jumps again in response. MK smiles broadly and rushes into the little house. Brandon peeks in his rearview mirror just in time to see Mettaton walk out onto the porch and sit himself next to Napstablook. Mettaton looks at the car and waves at him until Brandon is out of sight.

_Monsters love people unconditionally. Hahah, kinda refreshing._

Brandon approaches Grillby’s with warmth in his heart and a little less weight on his back.

**You’re filled with determination.**

***

"Hey Brandon. You okay?"

Brandon stops wiping down the bar counter and flashes Grillby a big smile.

"I'm great! Fantastico." He winks and continues scrubbing vigorously. He focuses on the counter, rubbing it down until he could see his reflection in the glossy surface. He feels a tingling sensation on his shoulder. He looks up to see Grillby, his not-completely-a-face contorted with concern.

"Fantastico? Really Brandon? I've been working with you for nearly a month now, I can tell when you're not fantastico." Grillby crackles, gripping Brandon's shoulder tightly. Brandon's smile slips a little, but he regains his composure before he totally lost it.

"I'm okay... Just a little worried is all." He laughs uncertainly. Grillby doesn't look too convinced with that answer, but he loosens his grip.

"Alright. Well, let me know when you need a break. Business is dying down a bit, so take it easy. And, um..." Grillby shyly tugs at his collar and clears his throat, "Let me know if you want to talk, okay?"

Brandon looks at Grillby, who shifts uncomfortably under his gaze.

"Thank you Grillby." Brandon says sincerely.

He takes his hand off Brandon's shoulder and nods, acknowledging his thanks.

**"grillz."**

Brandon and Grillby's heads snap towards the rumbling voice to see Sans crashing through the door like an angry rhino. His face is flushed and he's grinning like an idiot who just got accepted into Harvard. The two bartenders watch in awe as Sans powerwalks towards them. He's so focused on his destination that he doesn't notice the table directly in front of him. Brandon lets out a "Ooo, jeez" as he he slams gut-first into the edge of the tabletop.

At this, Grillby snaps out of his daze and stares at Sans with concern. At least it's probably concern. It might be amusement.

"Sans, what's wrong--" He asks curiously.

"grillz." Sans breathes and pushes himself off the table. He makes his way to the counter and leans over it, coming nose-to-nose with Grillby.

"you know girls. what do girls like?" He asks dead seriously. Completely taken aback, Grillby nudges Sans away with his hand, putting a few inches of distance between them.

"Sans, I like you, but personal space please." Grillby adjusts his glasses, "What's gotten into you? You're very... Ah... Energetic...?"

"i dunno what you're talking about." Sans says offhandedly, "i also dunno what girls like. gift wise. i'm getting a gift grillby, and i'm so lost."

"Who is the gift for?" Brandon cuts in politely. Sans jerks his head around and his eyes widen when he sees Brandon.

"bud. pal. friend." Sans slides over to Brandon, "you get here just when i need you."

"I was here the whole time...?" Brandon says, a smile creeping onto his face.

"were you? nice." Sans nods, "so i have a request. it would mean a lot if i could just.... drop a scenario on you, and you could give me some advice. that cool?"

Brandon pauses in thought for a minute. 

"Gotcha." He nods, "I'll do my best."

"ok. what would you give a potential slightly-pissed off girlfriend?"

Brandon takes only a few seconds to process this then bursts out laughing. Grillby's confusion increases.

"What are you talking about?" Grillby creases his eyebrows. Sans cocks his head at Grillby.

"a girl." He says bluntly.

"No kidding." Brandon grips his gut, "Does she happen to be related to me?"

Sans turns back to Brandon.

"how d'you know it's her?" He questions.

"Ah... Wild guess." Brandon shrugs knowlingly and wipes a tear from his eye. Sans shrugs in response.

"cool. so, gift ideas?" Sans looks at them both eagerly.

"Necklace?" Grillby suggests uncertainly.

"That's a good idea. Here's a tip," Brandon leans towards Sans, who is watching him intently.

"-My little sister is a sentimental little shit. She'd find value in a Pringles can if it's accossiated with a memory of hers. My suggestion? Get her something that lasts. I dunno, maybe a rock or something. Trust me, she'll love it."

Sans contemplates Brandons advice, then inhales suddenly. He looks like he just had the greatest epiphany as he jumps up from his seat and bolts for the exit.

Now it's Grillby's turn to laugh. He braces himself on the counter and tries to calm down as Brandon chuckles next to him.

"Man... What's gotten into him?" Brandon sighs happily.

"I'm not sure." Grillby straightens his back and collects himself, "But I'll tell you this..."

"Never, in all my years of knowing Sans, have I seen him run."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Fire Escape - Foster The People](https://youtu.be/8BrB5Z_xTJI)


	25. Hope #25 - I'll Just... Let It Go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spin around, 'round, 'round me  
> Collide without a sound  
> Caught up in your gravity  
> I don't know how  
> Run away, 'way, 'way from me  
> A spirit only I can see  
> I need you now  
> Cause I don't know how
> 
> I don't know what, what  
> I was afraid of
> 
>  
> 
> _What was I afraid of?_

“The Cat only grinned when it saw Alice. It looked very good-natured, she thought: still it had _very_ long claws and a great many teeth, so she felt that it ought to be treated with respect.”

“IT SHOULD BE TREATED WITH RESPECT. BIG SMILING CATS SHOULD ALWAYS BE TREATED WITH RESPECT.” Papyrus comments and snuggles closer to you. Frisk looks at you and smiles in agreement, leaning their head onto your other shoulder. You lower the book and nod at them both.

“That’s very true Paps. Because everyone knows that Cheshire Cats are the wisest and most revered cats of all.” Say as you readjust yourself on the couch, pulling up the blanket slightly to get Papyrus underneath the covers.

“Awww…” Frisk whines as the blanket is pulled out of their lap. They curl up closer to you, attempting to leech any warmth from you. You stroke their head apologetically.

“Sorry kid. How about,” you pat your lap, “you sit here. Then we can all have some blanket.”

“I like your way of thinking.” Frisk jumps up and plops themself in your lap. As you're adjusting again, a squeaky voice over your shoulder pipes up.

“Are you gonna keep reading or what?” Asriel drawls, leaning over your shoulder to get a better look at the book. You're not in the mood to cater to this impatient flower.

“I’m _very_ sorry Asriel.” You turn and narrow your eyes at him, “I wasn't aware that you were listening. Since when have you liked books?”

“Oh, I don’t care for books.” Asriel says off-handedly, “...But I rather enjoy Alice in Wonderland. It's an accurate tale of madness and horror.”

You're a little surprised. You didn't expect a flower to have a taste in literature.

“Oh, well… Uhm…” You turn back to the book, “I really like it too. One of my favorites, actually…”

“Oh yeah? If you like it so much, keep reading. Idiot.” Asriel sputters.

You attempt to retort, but suprisingly Papyrus beat you to it.

“YEAH YEAH, WE GET IT.” Papyrus sighs, “YOU'RE EMBARRASSED ___________ AGREES WITH YOU. NOW ___________, KEEP READING PLEASE.”

You can feel a smile creeping onto your face as Asriel huffs angrily, but doesn't argue.

You pick up the book again and Frisk nestles themselves into your torso, anticipating what happens next to Alice as she speaks with the Cheshire Cat.

“”Cheshire Puss,”she began, rather timidly, as she did not at all know whether it would like the name: however, it only grinned a little wider. “Come, it's pleased so far,” thought Alice, and she went on. “Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?””

You continue reading, and the more you read, the more the listeners were sucked into the story. Papyrus would drop a comment every once in a while, but during the more intense scenes he really quieted down, eyes wide with excitement. When the Cheshire Cat disappears saying, “Oh you can’t help that, we're all mad here.” you feel Frisk’s breath hitch in their throat.

“...Wonderland reminds me of the Underground.” They whisper, pulling the blanket up to their nose.

Upon hearing this, Papyrus sits straight up.

“OH. MY. GOD.” He enunciates every syllable, “IT TOTALLY DOES. I’M THE WHITE RABBIT! I WANNA BE THE RABBIT!”

He claps his hands happily and Frisk laughs.

“I’m the queen.” Asriel cuts in.

“Who's the queen, Asriel?” Frisk looks up at him.

“You’ll meet her soon.” Asriel grins evilly. You snort at him, and he looks satisfied with himself.

“You remind me of Alice, kiddo.” You say, ruffling Frisk’s hair. They giggle gleefully and swat your hand away. You open your mouth to continue, but they gasp loudly before you could do so.

“Sans is the Cheshire Cat!! He’s the cat!!” They squeal. Papyrus lets out the same gasp and nods vigorously. 

“...it does suit the smiley trashbag.” Asriel scowls, “Imagine him in a stupid purple cat costume.”

“Be nice.” Frisk scolds, then pauses, “That would be kinda cute though. But still! Be nice.”

“Yeah, don't be mean ya ‘lil weed.” Undyne saunters through the doorway, props herself against the wall and taps an imaginary watch on her wrist, “Now I hate to be the party pooper, but Toriel set the rules and left them up to me. I do believe it’s time for bed for two certain people.”

“Awwwww” Frisk and Papyrus whine in protest. Undyne looks at Papyrus incredulously then rolls her eye.

“Not you, you nerd.” She nods to Asriel and Frisk, “The children. Beddy-bye time for kiddies.”

“YAY!! MORE STORIES!!” He dives under the covers again. You nudge Frisk, and they throw off the covers and jump off your lap. They grab Asriel’s pot and drag their feet as they amble over to Undyne. They're moving slowly, like they're walking to their execution or something. They turn around briefly and cast you a forlorn look. You feel your heart break a little.

“I'm not reading any more. We can continue another night, okay?” You snap the book shut and stand.

“In fact, I think it's about time for me to head home.” You stretch, “Brandon should be off work by now…”

Frisk puts down Asriel, bounds over to you and envelops you in tight hug. You're taken by surprise, but it only takes you a second to return their affection. You plant a quick kiss on their forehead and hug them back. 

_They have a really strong grip for such a small kid._

You both stay like this for a bit until you hear Undyne clear her throat. You nuzzle their forehead one last time, then gently push them off your legs and towards Undyne. As they walk off, a sudden thought occurs to you.

_I… I really love them._

You've developed a special love for the people surrounding you. You look at Papyrus form the corner of your eye. He's currently amusing himself with a deck from your previous game of Cards Against Humanity. You close your eyes for a minute, standing in the middle of the room, and imagine being there without these people surrounding you. 

_What if they didn't exist?_

A bitter, cold feeling fills your gut. You have to bite back the lump forming in your throat.

_Hoo, boy._

Your eyes snap open.

“I’m gonna go now!” You say suddenly, startling Papyrus. You rush for the hallway without looking back.

“Tell Undyne I’ll text her when I get home!! I'll see you later Paps!!” You shout as you run for the door.

“UH… I WILL! AND... BYE… SEE YOU LATER?” Papyrus yells back back to you and returns to examining his cards.

You step out the door and into the night. The wind hits your face and you shiver, shoving your hands into your hoodie pockets. You stride down the lamp-lit street towards the transit stop at the little shopping mart, determined to make the next bus home.

***

“excuse me miss.”

Someone taps your shoulder. You jerk your head up and rip out your headphones. Your heart jumps as you're rushed with anxiety. Of course, since it’s you, you immediately assume the worst case scenario: some creep is trying to make a pass at you. Wouldn't be the first time someone has tried to pick you up at a bus stop.

Luckily, you're faced with a much more familar person.

“Sans!” You sigh with relief. Sans is here. Not a creep.

_It's not a creep. Calm down. Calm._

While your repeating reassuring words in your mind, Sans watches you with feigned confusion.

“hi there,” He says politely. You cock your head. Why is he acting like he doesn't know you? He looks almost puzzled as you when he continues:

“um, i hate to bother you, but i’m a little lost. i’m trying to find--”

He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a beaten up old-school flip phone.

“--your phone number. do you by any chance know where it is?”

His poor, lost tourist attitude drops with his little punchline. He grins proudly, raising his eyebrows at you.

_I can't._

“You act like you’ve lead me into some cunning prank,” You throw your head back in disbelief, “you already know me! _You could've just asked Undyne or Papyrus for my number you bonehead!”_

“i prefer to ask directly from the source.” He winks, “besides, how could pass up the chance for an incredible pickup line?”

You fold your arms and scoff.

“Psh. It wasn’t that great.”

“really?”

…

“Okay, it was a little clever.” You admit. He grins even wider at you, then nudges you with his phone.

“now, babygirl, what's the number?”

You sigh defeatedly. After reading out your digits, you feel a buzzing in your back pocket that indicates you've recieved a text. You reach for your phone--

"wait! wait until you get home. you can read it when... hmm..." He pauses in thought, "when you're about to go to sleep." 

_When I go to sleep?_

You withdraw your hand.

"Mmkay." You hum. You're done questioning his motives. You feel like you'll never figure them out even if you tried. But something _has_ been bothering you since earlier today...

"What was that earlier?" You exclaim suddenly. He looks up from his phone with a bemused expression.

"what was what?"

"That. The thing." You wave your hands around.

"you're really bad at being specific." He says, mimicking your arm motions in an exaggerated way.

"The hug!" You practically shout as you smack his arms down. A flicker of realization shows on his face, but his poor, lost tourist attitude came back.

"hug? what on earth are you talking about?" He says innocently, turning back to his phone.

_This guy._

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." You say irritatedly, "The kitchen. The whole 'brother' thing?"

"nope. don't recall it. maybe you hallucinated it. did asriel slip something in your tea?" He says as he clicks away on his little keypad. 

"Jesus you're difficult." You shake your head.

"hey, what did jesus ever do to you?" He says in an offended tone. You groan loudly, clearly showing your frustration, but he doesn't care. He's clearly enjoying toying with you. You see the corner of his mouth twitch, like he's trying to hold back a laugh. The way he's playing his just not fair. God, you really want to snap his stupid little phone in half.

Luckily, before you can do anything reckless, you see the headlights of your bus approaching you both. Sans eyes flit up, watching the bus driving towards him, then back to his phone. He finishes typing... Whatever he was typing, folds it shut, then tucks it away in his pocket. The bus reaches you and stops at your feet.

"So," You huff as you step through the door, "I'll see you later, I guess."

"i'm coming with." Sans says, quickly stepping in after you. The doors shut behind him. You rub your forehead, totally done with this bullshit.

"You don't have to." You say, walking over to the nearest seat and throwing yourself onto it. He simply hums in response and follows behind you. As you slump into your seat, you notice the few people sitting on the bus. There's one partucular man sitting across from you that's just... Staring at you. Not the spaced-out kind of staring. The full on 'I-may-or-may-not-have-bad-intentions" kind of staring. Not feeling the energy to call him out for being rude, you let him do his thing. You know he won't do anything on a bus filled with people.

You have witnesses.

You have Sans. 

If the creep tries something funny, Sans will arm wrestle him to death. He's very good at that.

_I will never let that go._

Sans notices the guy as well, but unlike you, he didn't seem to 'let him do his thing'. He grabs ahold of a strap dangling from the ceiling and stands there, giving off a nasty vibe to the creep. The creep jolts when Sans glances at him, and is suddenly very interested in his fingernails.

The bus jolts and accelerates forward. Sans nearly falls over, but his grip on the strap kept him from faceplanting. It was at this moment that he realized that it wouldn't be the smartest idea to stand, even if he had support. So he slowly, carefully sits himself next to you. He places his arm around the back of your chair and crosses his legs, never dropping his glare from the creep. The woman a few rows away from you is looking at the ceiling. Looking around you notice that the few people on this bus... Aren't very... Welcoming? 

Well, to be fair, Sans is being hostile. But there's something about the air that reeks of disapproval.

Not sure if that makes sense.

Let's see, how to explain it... Ah!

You know that feeling you get when you know someone is angry with you, not because of their behavior, but because of the _negative energy_ they radiate?

_Yeah, well these people are microwaving us with negative energy._

Your instinct is to block them out. These people are just having a bad night, no need to make yours worse.

You reach into your hoodie pocket for your headphones.

_Music fixes everything._

...

_Temporarily._

Sans watches you as you pull out your iPod and flip through your music, trying to find something calming. You notice him looking at you curiously.

"You should listen. It's... Calming." You say slowly, waving your iPod at him. He looks at you uncertainly.

"tibia honest, i'd love to jam to some of your music. but," He gestures to your headphones, "it'd be kinda difficult to share those headphones. unless you break 'em in half."

It's true. Your heaphones don't go into your ears, they fit over your head. But... You have a few tricks up your sleeve.

You snap one of the earpieces out it's joint and hold it out to Sans. He stares at your outstretched hand and carefully picks up the piece, puzzled.

"how did you do that?" He asks, looking it over, "how does it connect?"

_It's Bluetooth._

"Magic." You say dramatically, wiggling your fingers for effect. Sans chuckles and holds the earpiece to the side of his head.

"touché."

You smile to yourself and snap the other piece from it's joint, placing over your ear. You look through you iPod, looking for a certain song...

_Here it is._

You press play and lean back in your seat. The sound pumps through your headphones, relaxing your heartbeat and relieving your stress.

_Spin around 'round 'round me,_

You hear Sans sigh. His arm falls around your shoulders.

You don't mind.

_Collide without a sound._

You can see the stars twinkling through the window. Houses with darkened windows whizz by you in a blur of motion.

The creep sitting across you is staring at you again.

But you don't mind.

_Caught up in your gravity,_

The bus light flickers, the florescent light sending a mystical glow around you. Sans' hand grips your shoulder.

The bus stops, and the woman and the creep stand to get off. As the woman walks by, the heel of her massive red highheels digs into your foot. You wince.

But you really don't mind.

_I don't know how._

Everythig is a blur now. The rumble of the bus, the bumpiness of the road, the disapproval of the passengers around you. It feels like everything is slowing down.

Has this ever happened before when you listened to music? 

_Run away 'way 'way from me, spirit only I can see._

"Next stop, Campus Parkway." The female bus announcer beeps as you drive through your neighborhood. You don't want the bus to stop. The watching the world move outside the window is intimidating. You'd much rather be frozen here. Right in this bus seat, never having to get up and push forward.

Sans notices you tense as the bus stop gets closer.

He rubs your arm reassuringly.

You feel a little better.

_I need you now, 'cause I don't know how..._

Sans lifts his arm from your shoulders and pulls the bus string, letting the driver know to stop at the apartment complex. Your shoulders feel cold.

You want his arm back.

_I don't know what, what, I was afraid of..._

He takes the earpiece off and slides it into your hoodie pocket. You want him to take it back.

Why are you feeling so needy?

The bus jolts to a stop. Sans stands up and stretches. You sigh and take off your earpiece. The music fades.

"let's get outta here." He mumbles, reaching out his hand. You take his hand and he hoists you out of you seat. You loosen your grip, but he doesn't let go. He leads you through the bus aisle, out of the door, and into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Monster take me somewhere  
> Where I can see my breath in the air  
> We walk in shadows  
> Monster lead me home  
> Where there is no place to hide  
> Stranger on the other side  
> We walk in shadows
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> [ **Monster lead me home.** ](https://youtu.be/hOxrb5WjcXs)


	26. rule #26 - don't bother trying to understand. i really don't get it either.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [This is the chapter summary.](http://gettingwhatigive.tumblr.com/post/139679018889/indigenousghost-gettingwhatigive)

The yellow glow of the streetlight reflects off the damp pavement of the parking lot. The dark sky is clear tonight, the stars flickering flickering overhead. It's nights like these that you like to go on walks with Brandon. But right now you're with Sans, and somehow that makes the darkness all the more comforting. 

You both walk in silence towards the lobby entrance. Everything seems so surreal, like it's moving in slow motion. You're noticing everything he's doing. You notice how he walks with a lazy swing in his step, with his hands tucked in his pockets. His eyes are hooded as usual, but not from lack of sleep. He just seems... Relaxed. He puts you at ease.

**You feel... Something. You're filled with determination.**

"Well, this is me." You say as you both approach the doorstep, "Uh... Thanks for... Walking me back."

"sure thing." He stops at the doorway, smiling at you with... Excitement? Anticipation? Happiness? All three? You couldn't tell.

"See you later Sans." You nod at him as you turn away, but he catches your arm. You look at him, puzzled.

"oops. i nearly forgot." He lets go and opens his jacket, digging around the inside for something. You stand there, shivering a little in the cold, waiting for him to find what he's looking for. You could've left by now. Why haven't you left?

"here." He says, pulling out a cylinder cardboard... Thing. He holds it out to you, beaming at you like a happy puppy. You grab the object.

When you realize what it is, you have to bite down the urge to laugh. 

"It's a... Pringles can!" You say, turning it over. You look at Sans, your eyebrows creasing in confusion, "Is this for me?"

"you betcha. now i could be wrong, but i think there's still some leftover chips in there." He bounces on his heels, "how 'bout you check?"

He raises an eyebrow at you. You don't know what he's up to, but you decide to humor him a bit. 'Cuz why not? Not like you're freezing in the cold or anything. You take off the lid of the can and look into it. Sans holds his breath, waiting for you to say something.

"What is that...?" You say, looking up at him.

“i dunno. what is it?” He says, his eyes twinkling.

_He’s so excited._

You reach into the can. Your hand touches cold metal. You look at Sans again. He’s growing a little impatient.

“Am I taking too long?” You say politely. He grimaces slightly, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“yes.” He admits, “please hurry. i might throw up from all this suspense.”

“Can skeletons throw up?” You ask, genuinely curious.

“holy shit. babygirl.” He throws his head back in exasperation, “at any other time, _any other day_ i would be okay with that conversation. not now. seriously, you’re killing me here.”

_Oh. Am I?_

If this is bothering him so much, why not play along?

“Another thing, why ‘babygirl’? Let me just tell you so you don’t waste your time: It won’t stick.” You cock your head, smirking. He gives you a pained look, like you’ve just denied him thirty bottles of ketchup. Now you can see why he teases you so much. It’s really satisfying. Now that you have the upper hand, you’re not going to give up.

Sans sighs and digs his hands deeper in his pockets.

“okay _babygirl_. i see you’re having fun with this. but really now,” He steps towards you, “ if you don’t shut that pretty little mouth of yours and hurry up, i’m gonna have to shut it for you.”

His voice is dripping with a sickly sweetness. You can’t move. His face is just inches away from yours, smiling at you hungrily, like he’s been waiting for this for a long time. You’re holding the Pringles can to your chest, and you’re gripping it so hard your knuckles turn white. You’ve heard this tone before. It made your heart race in your chest. It made blood pump to your ears. It made your face burn. That way he spoke you know all too well, and it usually made you angrier than anything else he does. But now it felt… Different. Right now he isn’t teasing you, you think.

So what the hell is it?

…

**And that was the moment you knew.**

“Did you just flirt with me?” You ask bluntly.

He pauses, still face-to-face with you. In a split second his smile twitches from suggestive to his neutral, lazy grin. He sighs.

“i have been for the past month, but thanks for noticing.” He says almost boredly. He slouches a little, nearly closing the distance between you both. Your face flushes bright red, and you attempt to take a step back. Your legs aren’t responding to you. Your joints are stiff, both from the surprise and the cold.

“I don’t…” Your eyes flit off to the side, unsure of what to say. This new information to you didn’t make anything awkward per say, but it did puzzle you beyond anything else.

“for the love of— just— just eat a damn chip.” Sans flusters, his face tinted with blue.

Your eyes drop to the can. You can see the light reflecting off the metal near the bottom.

“go on.” Sans urges.

Prying your stiff fingers from the side of the can, you reach inside it.

“wait.” He stops you quickly, “look at me. i want you to look at me.”

"Make up your mind, B-man." You grumble. 

You force yourself to look at Sans. He’s watching you intently, smiling softly. Your heart does a backflip, and you angrily tell your insides to sit the fuck down. You slowly reach into the can, grabbing the metal at the bottom. Once you did, you knew what it is. You pull out a silver necklace and hold it between you and Sans. There’s a small pendant hanging from the chain. A small, silver crescent moon curves around a stone that contains the night sky. Swirling colors of navy and blue fill the stone with speckles of purple and white, mimicking the stars. Your breath catches in your throat.

“Wow.” You gape in awe at the little stone. Sans looks at you uncertainly.

“wow?”

“Wow.” You repeat, your voice cracking slightly. You wrench your eyes away from the captivating necklace to look at him. He stands there silently, waiting for feedback.

“Is… Is this for me?” You croak. You really didn’t know what to say.

“no. it’s for burgerpants. i really felt like we bonded at that party last night, and i wanted to give him this necklace as an appreciation gift of our friendship.” He says sarcastically, “i just wanted your opinion on it. do you think he’ll like it?”

“Okay.” You snort, and he grins a little wider, “You want my opinion? I think… I know he’ll love it. I mean, come on. This rock has a galaxy trapped in it. It’s... It’s amazing.”

“amazing.” He echoes, saying it like he’s never heard the word before, “cool. good. great. fantastic. yeah.” He nods, “thank you for your input.”

“You’re welcome.” You smile. Sans nuzzles his face into the neck of his hoodie. You can see blue peeking through the fluff.

“say,” He mumbles, “you wouldn’t mind keeping the necklace for a while, do ya? just until i can find the right time to give it to burgerpants.”

“Of course.” You say lightly, “Just let me know when you’re ready to confess your _undying feelings_ for him.”

“oh god.” He shudders, “don’t even joke about that.” 

That brought a full-on laugh from you. You don’t get why he has such distaste for BP, but that doesn’t make it any less funny. Sans looks extremely pleased with himself.

“on a less vomit-inducing note,” He smiles, “mind if i put it on you?”

“BP’s necklace?” You snort. His grin grows wider and he shakes his head.

“your necklace.” He takes your hand, carefully picking up the dainty chain. He reaches behind your neck, pulling your hair over your shoulder. He’s moving very slowly, like he’s afraid he'll spook you off. Not like you could run away, even if you wanted to. You hear a tiny _click_ , and he pulls away from you, adjusting the necklace to the pendant falls where your chest is.

"It's... Beautiful." You mumble, picking it up and holding it between your thumb and forefinger.

"yeah... you are..." Sans says hazily. You look at him, eyebrow raised questioningly. Sans quickly corrects himself.

"it is-- it is beautiful-- as in, the necklace is... pretty... isn't it...?" He trails off. Silence fills the air. The only sound is the wind whipping through the trees in the distance, and that noise isn't loud enough to drown out the quiet. Sans gazes at you with a painful expression.

"who am I kidding." He mutters, "'cept you. you can't seem to take a hint, girly. i guess i'm just going to have to flat-out say it, huh?"

His pupils flicker, the light going out like a candle. His eyes sockets are dark for only a split second, because a moment later one of his eyes is searing bright colors, switching between cyan and burning yellow. Another gut-wrenching moment later, time stops. Your eyes dart around, panic settling in your gut. _Everything around you from the cars on the street to the swaying trees is frozen in place, like it hadn't moved in a thousand years._ You consider bolting now, but the only thing stronger than fear is curiosity. You stay put, Sans standing in front of you with his shoulders hunched and his hands in his pockets, looking very determined.

"now listen," He rasps out, "i'm very sleep deprived. i've always been sleep deprived, but as of late it's been getting worse. so if i say anything crazy, it's probably because i am, actually, going crazy. nah-ah ah!" He puts a finger to your lips before you could say anything, "i'm talking. i want to say so many things, ___________. but for now i'm going to keep it simple."

He takes a deep breath.

**"i love you."**

Your eyes widen, morphing your face from intense confusion to complete disbelief. Again, you open your mouth to say something, and yet again, Sans interrupts you.

"no, i'm still talking." he says tiredly, "and i meant what i said. i love you. and no, i can't explain why. i don't have any logical explanation for such an abstract concept like _love_. there's no mathematical formula, there's no psychological method, no scientific theory... there's no possible way to put this connection into terms that a sane person can understand. so yeah, i don't get it. but i do know love when i feel it. the minute i saw your soul, i fell hard and i still haven't gotten up."

If your eyes weren't wide before, they're wide open now. Sans wasn't done though.

"i don't want you to answer me right now. i just wanted to get this off my chest, because keeping this secret that somehow _was only a secret for you_ ," He says irritably, "literally crushed the air out of my nonexistent lungs. so, the only thing i'm asking of you right now is to believe me."

You stand there like a deer caught in the headlights. Sans' sixty seconds of bravery was up. Time unfroze itself, permitting the wind to blow and the cars to continue driving. He stands there in front of you, a little breathless from expending that much magic and that many words in such a short spand of time. Once he realizes what he's done, he shift uncomfortably from foot to foot, expecting you to say something.

"uh... so, nice weather huh?"

His permanent grin falters. He blew it. He blew any chance of him getting close to you. You're going to run inside now, locking yourself up from the world. You're going to leave...

Never before in his life had Sans wished time would reset. But right now, that didn't seem like a bad idea.


	27. Rule #27 - No Namedropping.

Time was unfrozen, but to Sans everything stood still. He wants to take back everything he said. Not really, but he really wants the churning in his gut to go away.

"uh... i know i said i'm only expecting you to believe me." He croaks, "but, ya know. a reaction might be nice."

You blink stupidly, the gears in your brain whirring fast. And then something clicked. Your expression changes from 'deer caught in headlights' to 'prepare your ass for sass'. That's exactly what he got.

"Can I talk now, or..." You say sarcastically, mimicking his tone from the night he brought you coffee. When you finally broke out of your daze (and didn't run for the hills), Sans felt a hundred times better. You're talking to him. This is good, this is fixable. Somewhat. Sans didn't want to take back what he said, but he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable. Strangely, you didn't seem at all discomforted, though. Muddled? Yeah. Perplexed? Totally. Nervous? Not really. Sans relaxes a little, but is still careful not to break this delicate balance.

"yeah, talking would be cool." Sans says weakly, his genuine smile coming back.

"Well, I'm talking now." You wring your fingers uncertainly, "Not really sure what I should say, but I'm talking."

"that's good. no, really it is." He assures you when you wrinkle your nose at him, "hoo... okay. so now that it's out in the open, how about some good 'ol q&a?"

You ponder his suggestion for a moment, your arms folded to keep warm in the chilly air. Once you recovered slightly from the shock, you realized how freezing you are. In the time you were standing there, the clouds of your breath got progressively thicker. You can't feel your nose. So your main concern of the moment is making sure your fingers don't freeze off.

"Q&A is a great idea." You hop a little, trying to shake the cold from your frozen limbs, "But let's not do it out here. It would really suck if I got hypothermia before I could understand what the heck just happened... yeah?."

Sans flinches, worry flooding his features. You were only joking around, but he didn't spare you any humor at the moment. That's a little unsettling in it's own way. 'Sans' and 'serious' are words that are rarely in the same sentence.

"yeah. i'll walk you to your apartment, you can ask me anything along the way." He rushes past you to the twin doors that lead to the lobby of your apartment complex. He grabs the handle, pulling it open and gesturing you to walk in. You try your best to restrain a frown. You don't want to be babied, but you didn't want to give him a hard time with this 'should-be-awkward' situation. You look at the ground as you stride through the lobby, when that little voice in the back of your head starts whispering cynical words.

_**Why** exactly are you playing along with his little charade? You should've left a long time ago. This is all too shady, and you know that. You know what? Screw it. You're running for it. Right now. Go! Get outta there!_

You groan, rubbing your temple to ease the hissing voices in your head. Normally, they're the voices you look to for guidance. You trusted them. Your _instincts._ But recently... They seem to be more of a burden than of a help to you. Sometimes you're a little too harsh with them: shutting their opinions and directions down when you actually need to listen to their warnings. Most of the time you give them full control. You find that relying on instincts keeps you safe... And unhappy. The unhappiness didn't bother you a while back, but it sure as hell does now. So you try and keep balance between how trusting you could be, and how guarded you are. It's a little difficult even with people you feel most comfortable with, like Undyne or Frisk.

But right now, your trusting side is winning.

"you doin' okay?" Sans steps next to you, peeking at your face, "do you need anything or..."

"Oh my god, please." You drop your hand from your temple, "I don't need anything. I'm just tired, confused... and hungry."

"i gotcha." He nods understandingly, "eat a chip. or something. i could teleport down the block to that little supermarket if--"

"You could _what now?_ " You lean back, giving him a bewildered look, " _Teleport?_ "

"yes, that... that's what i said..." He says slowly, his eyebrows furrowing with each word, "you... do know that's a thing i can do. that's how i brought you home--" He stops short.

...

"Sans, if you're talking about the party..."

"right. you were drunk." He hits himself on the head with his palm, realizing his mistake. You roll your eyes.

"Excellent memory, Shitlock Holmes. Almost better than mine." You snort, and he smiles at you sheepishly, "But really, how could you forget that?"

"i dunno. must've blocked it from my memory." He says offhandedly, and you swear you could see blue dusting his cheeks. You decided to not think into it.

"so!" He claps his hands together decisively, "i'm sure you've got a lot of questions, girly. let's head upstairs. i'll try and explain everything that's been eating at you before you pass out from boredom." He grins as he ambles towards the staircase. He looks over his shoulder, expecting you to follow him.

"Everything? Oh boy, where do I start?" You jog over, keeping a certain amount of distance from him. He notices this, but doesn't mention anything.

"start on anything. anything at all." He reaches the stairwell, taking a few steps up.

"Okay..." You skip up to him, "Even if it's really personal? Like, what if I ask something /so private/ you just can't answer?" You walk behind him, your sneakers squeaking on the metal grip of the stairs.

"for example...?"

"...Can skeletons throw up?"

**"well now you've crossed the line."**

You smile softly to yourself.

"Nice. But really now, something has been bugging me since... Outside." You say carefully, "Uh... When exactly did you see my soul? I mean, I'm no expert on 'soul exploration', but I have a... _Hypothesis_ on what it is."

Sans glances over his shoulder, looking at you strangely. You don't make eye contact, distracting yourself by looking at your feet as you walk. You two are almost at the second floor now.

"I mean," You ramble, "what exactly does 'seeing someone's soul' look like? 'Cuz I feel like maybe I've seen it before? T-the soul seeing. I don't think /I've/ actually seen a soul before. Have I? What does a soul look like?"

"okay. so there are like, five questions in there." Sans reaches the landing and turns to you, "three of those questions i could write a full-length essay on. two of those questions aren't even directed at me. start with one, i'll work from there. and i have a few questions of my own now."

You gulp. He's going to ask you what you're 'hypothesis' is.

_Should I tell him about Mettaton?_

You have a gut feeling that would not go over very well.

"Alright, so..." You inhale, "When did you see my soul?"

"the day i met you."

...

...

"What?!" You exclaim suddenly, making him flinch. The first day he met you. He saw your soul, the very culmination of your being, the first time he ever spoke to you. The day he _really fucking_ pissed you off.

"Since the first day?! You've-- You've been teasing me, harassing me, doing-- those-- that--" You stumble, Sans looking at you with an expression a mix between fear and amusement.

"full sentences sweetheart, full sentences."

"You've been doing those /things/ you always do..." You flush angrily, " _and you already knew how I, as a person, worked?_ "

"not necessarily." Sans grins sheepishly, "there's a lot more variables to that. heh, I just like watching you you squirm and blush. believe it or not, that's called _flirting._ "

"You were FLIRTING?" You look like you've discovered all the answers in the universe. Sans can't help but think you're pathetic for not noticing. You did cause him a lot of heartache, after all.

"yeah, i was. but i'm not gonna talk about that now. let's address the confusion around _how i saw your soul._ " He says, waiting for your all clear for him to continue. You nod at him, still in a slight daze from all this information, and he continues.

"so uh... you know that saying that humans have? **eyes are the windows to the soul.** do you remember that day you pulled me towards you, we were practically face-to-face. you looked me in the eye and said something like, "wow sans, you're the greatest skeleton i've ever met-""

"I **do** remember that." You gasp, your voice dripping sarcasm.

"-and i got a front row seat of your soul. and no, i never understood how you worked _as a person_. uh... how to put this... so you know when you look through a window, you're not present in the room, and you don't know what's happening on the inside. you can't hear the sounds and conversation of the people within, so you lip-read and try and judge what's going on from what you see. does that make sense?"

"Yeah. A little..." You nod slowly, still unsure. 

"maybe there's a better explanation." He closes his eyes, thinking hard. "uhmmm... i caught a glimpse of the _surface_ of your soul. your conscience."

You pause for a moment.

"I understand." You say decidedly, "Now, I was wondering..."

"actually, i was wondering something too."

_Shit._

"what do _you_ know about souls?" Sans asks, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

"Nothing really." You shrug him off, bounding towards the next flight of stairs. He trails behind you lazily. You feel his eyes burning in your back.

"did something happen?"

_Yeah._

"Nothing really." You repeat, taking the steps two at a time, pumping yourself up the stairs. You've very anxious to get back to your apartment, but Sans wasn't having any of that.

"i call bullshit." He teleports in front of you with a flash, nearly knocking you down the stairs. You regain your balance, but just barely.

"H'okay, you need to _not_ do that again." You huff, grabbing onto the wall railing, "But you got me. Something happened, but I swear it wasn't a big deal. He apologized--"

"he apologized?" He says, his eyes flickering at you impatiently, "what would this person... _'he'_ need to apologize for?"

"I told you, it's not a big deal." You throw your hands in the air exasperatedly, "It was a while ago, he said sorry many times, and I'm over it! There's nothing to get worked up about."

"who is he? what happened?" Sans growls, sending chills down your spine. He's not hearing a word you're saying, and he sure as hell doesn't seem like he's going to drop this. So you're the one who's going to drop it. Not answering his nagging questions, you shoot him a glare and walk past him towards the third floor. One more floor to go. Again, he trudges behind you, radiating concern and anger.

"___________, something happened, and you might not realize the weight of it." He grumbles, "souls are powerful forces that shouldn't be reckoned with."

"Calm down Sans. I reckon that I'm okay now, and I'm not going to let him beat himself over a mistake he made."

"mistake? he made a mistake?"

"Oh my god. This keeps getting worse and worse." You groan, stepping ahead when he tries to match his pace with yours, "I'm going to stop talking now. Q&A over."

He grabs you by the arm, turning you around so you face him. He's panicking a little. Sure, he doesn't know what you're talking about, but he has a notion of what it could be.

"Sans, let go." You say harshly. You're not willing to namedrop Mettaton just because Sans can't handle that someone touched your soul. God, it's not even a problem anymore. Your nightmares have diminished to about once every few days, and you're handling yourself just fine. But he didn't know this. The only message he's receiving from being dismissed is that there's someone more important than him.

**Your intense desire to protect someone else fills Sans with deter...**

**Jealousy. He is filled with jealousy.**

"please, just tell me." He begs, "for my sake. i lose my mind, more than i have already."

That got you to stop and consider. His dark, pleading eyes looked so anxious. You've never seen him like this before, and it's making your will weak.

"...A while back," You begin, choosing your words very carefully, "someone did something."

"something?" He breathes, gripping your arm tighter.

"Uh... yeah." You nod, "He was curious about me. At least that's what he said. He pointed at my chest and a bright, colorful light glowed from it......and I started seeing things." You finish.

...

"that's it?" He croaked out. Of course that wasn't it, but you aren't so keen on going into the nitty gritty details about what happened that day. Not totally the truth, not totally a lie. So you nod at him. His grip loosens on you, and he backs away, sighing.

"See? It wasn't a big deal." You rub your arm, relieved at his calm reaction. You were a little worried he freak out about something or other, but luckily he handled it pretty well.

"yeah, it wasn't." He says, his aloof, lazy demeanor coming back. The tense atmosphere is gone, too.

Sans didn't talk for the rest of the way up the stairs.


	28. appreciation #28 - you're just like her.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I'm really sick right now but because I love you guys so much I mustered enough determination to write another chapter. Hope you enjoy! <3

I'd say I'm a mellow guy.

I avoid conflict, I'm all for second (or a couple hundred) chances, one of my favorite pastimes is napping, and I'm pretty easygoing. I'm very well known for not giving a shit about things I should probably give a shit about, and I definitely _do not condone violence._

But I gotta say...

_it's taking all my willpower not to sprint to a certain robot's mansion, uppercut punch him in his bucket face and slam him down into the ground so hard that it flattens him into a tin sled._

How did I figure out it was Mettaton who touched ___________'s soul? Mm... Let's just say it was a wild guess.

Actually it was more like putting a puzzle together, piece by piece. I seem to be very good at that kind of stuff, I guess.

So as I'm walking up the stairs, ___________ trailing silently behind me, I try desperately to calm the burning rage building up inside of me. I hope she doesn't notice my annoyance, but let's be real here: I could snap Mettaton's neck right in front of her and she still wouldn't notice that I'm angry with him. Emotions are definitely not her strong point. I know, I know, I have to forgive her about the whole "didn't notice I was flirting" deal, but I'm still a 'lil bitter about that. Eh, I'll let it go... Tomorrow.

As we're walking down the hallway, she speaks up.

"Uh, I have more questions, but... You seem a little tired, so can I maybe... Text you... Or something..." She says shyly.

I continue walking forward, not letting her chronic adorableness calm me down. I have a right to be angry.

"that sounds good to me." I nod slightly, staring straight ahead. I'm going to destroy that trashcan of a robot. Nobody can stop me, not even ___________. She said "It's not a big deal", but it is. It is a _very_ big deal. His pesky 'curiosity' led him to do something that is near the equivalent to a one-night stand. He reached into a private and, I hate to say it but, _intimate_ part of her that nobody has ever seen let alone know about. So yeah, I'm a little miffed at him. Yeah, he's not going to live to see the sunrise. And yeah, Paps will be slightly disappointed, but I'm sure he'll get over that big 'ol calculator.

"Hey," She snaps me from my churning thoughts, "Thanks for walking me home."

I take back what I said earlier. She _must_ know I'm pissed, 'cuz it's almost like she's trying extra hard to calm me down.

_heh, sorry babe, not gonna work this time aroun--_

"Sans," She peeks at my face, her eyebrows creased ever so slightly with concern, "are you okay?"

_fuck._

"i'm doing just fine, babygirl." I wink over my shoulder, "sorry if i seem _sternum_ , i'm just a little drained."

"Oh."

Silence settles between us again as we reach her door. I stop a few feet away from the entrance, waiting for her. She avoids my eyes, ambling over to the door, opening it slowly and stepping into her apartment.

_she doesn't lock her door when she leaves?_

Let's add that to the infinite list of things that worry me.

"Hey, um..." She turns around, holding the door, "Thanks again."

"no problemo darling."

Her cheeks rush red at my new pet name, and I push down the urge to drop another one on her. It's incredible, addicting even, how she turns so many different colors at a single word from me. She opens her mouth to say something, probably to insult me, but what she says actually rubs me the wrong way.

"I... I know you probably have a bone to pick with Mettaton." She stutters, gripping the door until her knuckles turn white, "...But please, don't be angry with him. He feels awful about the whole thing. There's probably a whole other 'deeper meaning' to what he did or whatever, but I honestly don't care."

I stare at her. She looks a little intimidated, but continues with an unyielding tone in her voice.

"I think he's a sweet robot guy with a sweet robot heart. If what he did was so wrong, he's probably beating himself up over it. No need for you to help him out."

I gaze at her, amazed at her perception. Her little rant pissed me off, though. I can't understand why she's trying to protect him, he's just a tin bucket with a flamboyant personality. On the other hand, she noticed I was upset, and astonishingly she confronted me about it.

_and even more astonishingly..._

"did you just make a bone pun?" I say, my grin widening with amusement. Her already red face turns even redder, and she scowls at me.

"Not really. It's wordplay." She flusters, closing the door a little.

"so basically," I lean forward, raising an eyebrow at her "a pun."

"W-whatever." She flusters, closing the door just enough so I can see her eyes peeking from the crack.

"wow, girly." I chuckle, "you're pretty _humerus_ , ya know that?"

"GOODNIGHT SANS."

***

I walk out the lobby door, satisfied with the calm conversation I just had with ___________ about what the difference between a pun and wordplay was. I won the argument, if you care to know. So as I walk outside into the dim parking lot of the apartement complex, I'm faced with a difficult decision that will change the outcome of this eventful night, for better or for worse.

_should i walk home, or teleport?_

This life decision will haunt me for the rest of my days, so I choose carefully. I decide that I'll walk, because quite honestly I need to burn off some of that excess fury from earlier. Maybe I'll tire myself out from moving so much that I'll actually have a chance of falling asleep tonight. Well, that settles it. Let's go for a walk.

I take a shortcut (no, not teleporting, an actual shortcut) through a few sketchy alleys, wind my way through a few yards, upset a few dogs and find myself in my neighborhood. All the identical suburban houses surrounding me are dark in the windows, giving the street a feeling of emptiness. At least there's a full moon tonight. The stars are out and the only sounds I hear are the wind and the faint hum of cars shifting down the mainstreet. I shuffle down the sidewalk, looking at my feet as I trudge forward. Grass peeks through the cracks in the cement.

_we should just have... grass sidewalks._

I know grass sidewalks won't be effective for long, but hey, one can dream, right? I sigh, relaxing my shoulders as I draw closer to my house. Suddenly--

**Tweee... Twee!**

A soft, squeaky cry of pain comes from the bushes in the neighbor's front yard, making me jump in surprise. I whirl around, facing the direction the noise came from.

**Tweet.**

There's the noise again, calling out for help. At least I think it's calling for help. I step cautiously towards the bushes, careful not to snap any stray branches and possibly startle the creature. I lift the branches of the bush to find... A little bird, crippled and lying on the ground with feathers scattered around it. It's about the size of a tennis ball, with a small, black beak and brown, white and black patterns on the feathers. I'm not sure what species it is. It's chirps fall silent and it stares at me with it's little black eyes, dazed from fear and pain. My heart jumps.

"hey, buddy." I whisper, unmoving, "need a little help there?"

It twitches, ruffling it's feathers at me. It's so scared, so helpless, and yet theres a certain flicker of defiance I've never seen in an animal so tiny. Not determination, but the next closest thing to it. I lean forward, moving slower than a snail, towards the tiny bird. It panics when I get too close, flapping its wings violently to try and get away from me. It cries out in pain, stopping it's violent movement. I think it's leg is broken.

"sh, shhh..." I carefully slide my hands underneath the bird's back, making sure to support the legs. It whimpers as I pull it to my chest, stroking it's head with my thumb.

"you're okay now."

The bird snaps at my thumb, scratching me a little. I whip my hand away, grimacing in shock.

"you're pretty aggressive to someone who's just tryin' to help." I mutter. It nips at my sweatshirt, poking at my ribs through the cloth. I sigh, stretching out the hat of my hoodie to make a nest-like pit, and carefully place the small bird in the middle. When I withdraw my hand I can feel a little rustling in my makeshift nest. It tickles my neck, sending a chill up my spine.

"i'll take care of ya for now, little guy."

I walk across the lawn, careful not to bump around very much or upset my passenger. I hear a peep or two behind me, but other than that it's cooperative. I step up to the front door, unlock it, then open it carefully. The creaking of the hinges makes me freeze. I don't want to wake up Papyrus this late, that would raise a shitstorm I know I can't deal with at the moment. He's probably fast asleep, but you can never be too careful. Bracing my hands firmly on the frame, I close the door quietly and tiptoe up the stairs. When I enter my bedroom I realize that this might not be the safest environment for a wounded animal. The bird peeks it's little head from my hoodie as I watch my self-sustaining tornado of spaghetti, socks and scrap paper ravage the corner of my room.

"sorry for the mess." I mumble, heading over to the tornado to try and get it under control, "wasn't expecting company, ya know?"

The bird peeps quietly.

As soon as I calmed down the calamity in my room, I searched around for a home for the bird. I went to my closet and found an old shoebox, perfect size for a small creature. I set it on the floor next to me and slowly, cautiously lifted the bird from it's nest. It doesn't struggle against my grip this time, but it does peck at me, sending small shocks of pain through my fingers. I lift it over my shoulder and place it in the little shoebox.

"alright." I say decisively, "now to get you some cushioning. don't wanna be resting in plain 'ol cardboard now, do we?"

I get up from the floor, walk to my dresser and grab a few pairs of clean socks from one of my drawers. When I get back, I find the bird out of the box and hopping on one foot, it's injured leg curled against it's breast. I can't really tell, but the wound seems serious. When I get closer, it chirps loudly and hops like a hyper rabbit away from me and into the corner of the room. I sigh, plopping myself down next to the shoebox. It watches me as I line the inside of the box with the socks, filling it halfway and tweaking it a little Not bad for a quick little bird bed.

"it's done. wanna test it out?" I gesture over to the box, in which the bird tweets sharply at me. I sit back, eyeing the beady little bird amusedly. The bird watches me like a hawk. I'm pretty sure it isn't actually a hawk, but it's attitude is fitting of one.

"you're just like her." I whisper, a soft smile spreading on my face.

I cross my legs and wait patiently. It'll come to me. 

 

And it does.

 

It was wary of me at first, but it hobbles over, looking at me carefully. I don't move at all, barely breathing in fear that I'll scare it off. But it doesn't run away. In fact, it hops past the little shoebox and perches itself on my leg, pecking at the string of my hoodie. I laugh quietly, putting my hand out in front of it. It hops from knee to hand almost fearlessly. I raise my hand to my chest, stroking it's back with my thumb. It doesn't protest.

"congratulations, my little bird. you made it to my heart."


	29. Rule #29 - Don't Order An Egg Sandwich: Someone Will Definitely Make a Breakfast Pun.

"Egg and cheese breakfast sandwich and tall vanilla latte!"

Luke calls out to you from the counter. You're sitting at your favorite sofa next to the window of Zoka, spaced out while sketching in your notebook and totally unaware that Luke was trying to get your attention. It's been a day since... Ah... That night. Ever since then you've been in what Brandon calls 'vegetable mode'. Barely talking, always laying around, constantly thinking and daydreaming are all symptoms of vegetable mode. No, you're not depressed. You know what depression feels like all too well. There's really not a good word for what's happening in your brain, hence the term 'vegetable mode'.

So yeah, your head has been other places. You can't wrap your mind around the fact that... Sans... Loves you...?

You've tried to, of course. But the concept just doesn't make sense. You understand that your brother loves you, that's a no-brainer. Undyne has told you she loves you platonically. Frisk loves everyone. So why is this fucking you up so much?

You remember him talking to you. You remember that night he said specifically, "don't try to understand, because i don't get it either". But that's the thing... Believing in something doesn't come naturally to you.

_the only thing i'm asking of you right now is to believe me._

You groan, rubbing your forehead in exasperation. You can't even fulfill the _one simple thing_ he asks of you. Why is it so difficult.

"You okay? You seem a little... Lost in thought...?"

You jolt, startled by the voice over your shoulder. Looking up you see Luke standing there, holding your latte and looking very concerned.

"O-oh, yeah." You stutter, "I'm just thinking about stuff. Is that for me?" You nod to the cup in his hand, eager to change the subject. Luke looks down, then looks back at you, not convinced at your response.

"Mhm." He sets your food down at the coffee table next to you, pausing at the sight of your drawing, "Are you sketching... A skeleton?"

Your heart catches in your throat. You glance down quickly, slamming your notebook shut as soon as you see what you've been doing.

_Fuck. Not again._

"Yeah. Yeah, you know... Skeletons have pretty interesting..." You clear your throat, "Physical composition."

Luke raises his eyebrow, but doesn't question you.

"I have'ta head back to work." He turns around, simpering at you slightly, "Let me know if you want to talk about anything."

"M'kay." You nod, avoiding eye contact. You couldn't believe yourself, you fucking sketched him again. Well, it was an accident, you were spacing out. You're not sure which one is worse, consciously drawing him, or _subconsciously_ drawing them. Either way, you're ashamed. You rub your eyes, trying to snap out of it.

"you look eggshausted." A deep voice chuckles in front of you. Sans. He saunters over to you, a satisfied with his little breakfast pun. You roll your eyes, setting your notebook down and low-key kicking it underneath your chair. God knows what would happen if someone saw what's in it. You let Brandon have a peek once or twice, but that's it. Undyne has pushed you to show her, but of course you said no. So yeah... It's kinda a private deal.

"That was awful."

"you're smiling, no?"

"It's a pity smile." You scrunch up your nose, attempting to wipe the stupid grin off your face.

"huh. i swear i've heard someone say that before." He snickers, sitting himself on the seat next to you. His eyes flicker to the bottom of the sofa and back to you, but doesn't say anything. You feel a little uneasy.

"H-how did you find me anyways?" You furrow your eyebrows, "What are you, a stalker?"

"that's a new one." He says casually, leaning into the cushions, "nah i haven't been stalking, i think. i've just... ya know. followed you here from your apartment."

Your eyes widen, shoulders tensing at his words. He followed you here?!

"Sans." You say dangerously, "You do _know_ what stalking is... Don't you?"

"yeah, i suppose." His grin widens, "does that make me a..."

"Stalker? YES!" You raise your voice. Sans covers his mouth, stifling his incoming laughter. You're giving him your famous death glare, and for some reason it seems like it's having the opposite effect on him. You sigh, shaking your head at him.

"What am I going to do with you." You look at the ceiling, eyes scrunched shut.

"I have a few ideas..." He smirks provocatively. You curl your legs to your chest, forcing the heat building in your cheeks back wherever they came from. He eyes you with mirth. If you didn't know any better, you'd say he's making fun of you again.

_Nothing's changed at all._

"Hey, is he bothering you?"

Your head snaps up to see Luke, who made himself over to you two. His eyes are narrowed at Sans, and he's not looking too pleased with him being so close to you. Sans on the other hand didn't seem to give a fuck. He watches Luke with his normal, half-lidded gaze with a hint of aggression.

"No... It's fine." You say carefully, but Luke wasn't convinced. He never is.

"Who is he?" He asks, never taking his eye off Sans.

"just a stalker." Sans says coolly, "move along."

You slowly turn back to Sans, eyes wide with a 'what-the-actual-fuck' look. Sans wasn't fazed though, he maintained his aloof attitude towards Luke, who's face is contorted with concern. He kinda reminds you of a mom, actually.

"Sans, you don't just tell people you're a stalker." You say sweetly, "He's a friend Luke. Don't worry about us, your customers need you."

Luke turns to you incredulously.

"You sure--"

"Yes yes," You wave him off, "I'm sure. Don't be bothered, Sans is just an ass sometimes."

"hey." Sans whines, looking at you like a sad puppy. Your breath catches in your throat. You know he's just teasing you, but you can't help the small tinge of guilt in your chest. Luke hesitates, looking back and forth between you two. He seems a little peeved with this whole ordeal, although he really has no reason to be. He turns away from you and stomps away in a huff. You both sit there, watching him as he walks off.

"Sans."

"yeah?"

"I think you _may_ have made bad impression of yourself."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Papyrus crashes into the room* OH. MY. GOD.
> 
> WRITER ACHIEVED 100+ FOLLOWERS THE OTHER DAY. THAT'S LIKE, ONE HUNDRED PEOPLE!! IF SHE WASN'T SLEEPING RIGHT NOW SHE'D MAKE THIS ANNOUNCEMENT HERSELF, BUT YOU KNOW HER! IF SHE HAD A CHOICE ON WHETHER TO GO TO THE OSCARS OR WATCH TV, SHE'D PROBABLY TAKE A NAP.
> 
> WHICH BRINGS ME TO MY NEXT THING I WAS GOING TO SAY...
> 
> SINCE SHE'S BAD AT DECIDING THINGS, SHE WANTS _YOUR_ OPINION ON WHAT THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE!
> 
>  
> 
> [ **CLICK MY WORDS AND YOU'LL BE TAKEN TO A PLACE WHERE YOU CAN CHOOSE STUFF** ](http://strawpoll.me/6974200)
> 
>  
> 
> WELL, I GOTTA GO. THANKS FOR READING!


	30. rule #30 - god this is bad.

**[Location: Zoka] [Thursday, 9:32 AM]**

"oh, by the way... i got a bird."

___________ looks up from her breakfast sandwich, her cheeks puffed with egg and cheese. She grimaces as she tries to say something through her full mouth.

"Erhm--" She coughs, "You 'got' a bird? When?"

"the night i took you home." I see her face flicker with uncertainty when I mention that eventful evening. So she hasn't really... Uh... Processed it yet, huh? Whatever. That's cool. That's fine! It's not like I'm internally ripping apart from the tension. I'm not bothered when she acts like nothing happened. I don't notice how she brushes her hair out of her face while she speaks. The way her eyes light up despite her frown when I drop a killer pun... I don't care how damn attractive she looks in her oversized sweatshirt...

...

_oh god, do i have a sweatshirt fetish?_

"Sans?"

Her voice brings me out of my thoughts and back into the present. Her head is tilted curiously, a hint of concern showing in her features. How long have I been spacing out?

"You okay there?" She asks, raising an eyebrow at me.

_no._

"yeah, yeah." I nod, scratching the back of my head sheepishly, "sorry, i was just thinking."

She eyes me skeptically, then shrugs. Did she guess what was going through my head? I hope not.

"Well, don't hurt yourself. Thinking too hard is dangerous, 'specially for boneheads like you." She flashes me a small smirk. I freeze.

"did you just..." I say, my smile widening slightly, "make another skeleton pun?"

She purses her lips and averts her gaze from me. Her nails are suddenly very fascinating to her.

"Maaaaaybe..." She enunciates, glancing at me through her eyelashes. Thank the lord above she looked back to her hands before she could see my face rush blue. I feel heat pulsing through me, beating through my bones, curling and twisting in my chest. It's a painful yet addictive sensation, and I don't think I can handle it right at this moment.

"well, you're on a roll sweetheart." I bolt up from my seat, startling her in the process, "i gotta go now. i'm late for-- uh-- something. see ya!"

I shuffle quickly towards the door before she could say anything. I feel her gaze burning into my back. If I didn't know that it was impossible, I'd think that she's staring into my soul. I shake my head, trying to clear my mind. The thought of her looking into my soul only makes this churning in my chest more unbearable. Luckily, I don't have to think about _that_ for long. As pass the barista counter, I see 'The Prick'... 

No, wait, that's rude. What's his name again? Linus? Loki? Loser? Oh man, I just met the guy and I can't even remember his name. That's just how irrelevant he is. Come on, you can't blame me for not liking the dude. In our little staring contest, I got a nice long look at his soul. It was so... _Bland._ I also didn't like the look he gave me in general. He was eyeing ___________ like she was a meal. As if a girl like her would even be remotely interested in dude as shallow as him.

So, as I brush past... Luke, I make eye contact with him. Suddenly, I'm overtaken with guilt. 

_since when was i so nasty towards a stranger?_

I nod at him almost apologetically, in which he pointedly glares at me. 

_oh. since now._

I decide I'm going to continue not liking this guy.

Remember how I said I didn't like the way he look he gave me? Yeah, that's how he's staring at me now. 

...

I have the strangest feeling he recognizes me from somewhere.

**[Location: Sans' Room] [Thursday, 9:32 PM]**

"--so that's when luke barged in on us. to be honest i wouldn't have cared that he interrupted if he wasn't giving ___________ a funny look. the dude thinks he's _all that_ , just cuz he has a few classes with her."

I'm sitting on my bedroom floor with my legs crossed, talking to the bird about my day. It's because of this bird that I'm genuinely excited to go to my room after work.

The bird pecks at the piece of bread I laid out for her, not paying any attention to me at all. Yes, it's a her. I did some research on bird characteristics, and I found out that she's a female sparrow. I never thought that one day I'd have a preference on birds, but now I do. I like sparrows. She's really small and was kinda shy at first, but after a day or two she felt more comfortable with me. She loves sourdough bread and she sleeps in a pile of clothes next to my bed. I tried to get her to sleep in the little shoebox bed, but after the first night she never touched that box again. Once she kidnapped one of my slippers and dragged it to the closet to make a little hideaway for herself. I never took the slipper back.

So yeah, she's amazing. Unfortunately... Her broken leg isn't getting any better. She keeps it tucked into her feathers, refusing to show me. She's decently strong on one leg, but even still it worries me. She doesn't let me near any of her wounds, so I'm at a loss of what to do. I can't tie her down even if I wanted to: she's too quick for me. So at the moment I'm brainstorming options. Many of them I'm not a huge fan of.

"say, bud." I sigh, sprawling myself on the floor and staring at the ceiling, "remember how i said you're just like her?"

The bird peeps quietly.

"well, it's true." I mutter, studying a splotch of discoloration on the wall, "it's freaky how similar you are. anyways... i'm a little squeamish around her ever since i told her i love her. oh jeez..."

I laugh sheepishly, crossing my arms behind my head for support.

"i'm not much for talking about feelings to someone... let alone a bird. hey, not like that's a bad thing." I say quickly as she cheeps angrily at me, "so, uh, bear with me. i don't know how to be around her. she, of course, acts normal unless i bring up that night. but i'm so damn aware of her, if that makes any sense. everything she does is etched into my mind. this morning she called me a bonehead and i had to leave because i had the strongest urge to pull her into my lap and squeeze her. but that's weird, isn't it? yeah, that's weird."

I glance at the bird to find that she nearly finished off the bread and is now pacing around the crust.

"i want her to take her time to figure things out. i keep telling myself, 'i'm doing this for her, it's what she wants', but like, come on. i want stuff too! i want her. i want to wake up every morning with her curled next to me, wearing my sweatshirt. i want to take her to grillby's and drink and laugh with her. i want to hold her while we have tv marathons in the middle of the night. want to hold her soul. i just want to be close to her in general, as you can probably tell."

She ruffles her feathers and hops over to me, her dark eyes looking at me with curiosity. I lay there stock still, watching her approach me.

"toriel once told me something." I whisper, "she said, 'love is patient, sans. it will wait for anyone.'"

The bird jumps onto my arm, hopping back and forth from my hand to my elbow. She's probably not listening to me.

"but that's the thing." I grumble, **"i'm not patient. i don't want to wait."**

She makes her way up to my shoulder chirping quietly at me. It almost seems like she's comforting me.

"but i'll wait. that's all i can do at the moment." I lift my other arm up and cover my face, "but i'm always wondering if it's selfish to think like this. is it wrong to want her near me? cuz i don't know anymore."

She nips at my cheekbone lightly, her feathers brushing my face. I feel a little better.

"ah, whatever. i can live with being selfish."

**[Location: Park Outside Campus] [Friday, 8:33 AM]**

_there she is._

I was on my first shift at the hotdog stand when I saw ___________, walking out of a massive building with Luke. Her hair is up in a loose ponytail that swings back and forth with her step. She’s not in her usual comfort clothes. She’s wearing a short white t-shirt that reads “FANCY” in bold font with a leather coat layered over a grey sweater, ripped black jeans and black sneakers. If I look carefully I can see the remnants of paint on her shirt and face.

_they must be coming back from an art class._

I want so badly to walk up to them and shoo Luke away. But as I step towards them I notice how deep in conversation they are. They have an aura that makes them difficult to approach.

_gross._

I groan and sit down on a bench next to the stand, watching her walk away with that douchenozzle. As they make their way to the main street, I see her dig through her pockets, searching for something as she talks to Luke. After a few seconds she pulls out what looks like a bus pass. She points to the bus stop. Luke nods. He opens his arms for a goodbye hug, but she doesn’t notice. She’s too busy looking for her phone. Theres two seconds where he stands there, arms outstretched. When he sees that she wasn’t aware of him, he curls his hands into fists and lets his arms drop to his sides.

I throw my head back laughing.

**get DENIED pal!**

She looks up at him smiling, phone in hand, and waves goodbye as she jogs over to the bus stop.

I sigh with satisfaction, stretching my arms over my head. That was amazing.

Luke observes ___________ while she’s waiting there at the bus stop, her earbuds blasting some tunes. He shakes his head, shoves his hands into his jean pockets and strolls back to campus. My gaze follows him as he gets closer to me. He meets my eyes, and recognition flashes over his face. I grin smugly and lean back, shooting a wink in his direction. He looks at me murderously and quickens his pace.

_yeah, you’d better get outta here._

I kinda feel like a jerk for making fun of him, but he just makes it too easy, ya know? As soon as he’s out of sight I stand up from the bench. Now that he’s out of the picture, I’m gonna go see ___________. 

She doesn't notice me approaching her from behind. She's currently texting, bopping her head slightly to the her music. I was about to say something real witty to get her attention when--

**Fuck you~ Fuck you very very much~**

I stop in my tracks as her ringtone goes off. She rips out one of her headphones, presses the answer call button and brings it to her ear.

"Y'ello?" She says casually, flippinf through music on her iPod. Now, I was _going_ to say hi to her, but this little voice in the back of my head is curious about who is calling her. I can hear an airy voice on the other end of the line. I can't quite put my finger on it, but I feel like I've heard it before. It makes me feel a little uneasy.

"Oh, hey!" She chirps, "No no, don't worry about it. I'm bad at contacting people too."

...

"Y-you want me to come over right now?" She frowns and stuffs her iPod in her jacket pocket, "Uh, okay. No, it's fine, I wanted to talk to you too."

My bones go stiff.

_what's that supposed to mean? is she seeing someone?_

...

_what the fuck sans, that's not cool. you gotta chill. it's probably a friend._

"What's my size...? Oh... Uh, hold up, I don't know this off the top of my head..."

And then I'm gone. I teleport to the nearest tree, breathing heavily from my sudden burst of magic. I lean against the trunk, gathering my racing thoughts. Who was that? Aw shit, I should've stayed a bit longer, maybe she said his name. Wait, _their_ name. I don't know if it's a dude. Come on, why is this such a big deal? I knew that voice from _somewhere_ , therefore it's probably someone I know! Undyne? No, her voice is loud and commanding. I could recognize it from a mile away. Paps is the same. So not those two. Alphys? Mm... No, the caller didn't sound very timid, just kinda neutral. It was definitely not Mettaton, I know this for many reasons I won't get into at the moment. So who?!

I cradle my head in my hands, thinking hard.

_who?!_

...

_burgerpants._


	31. bonus #31 - snas was here  B) heheh oH SHIT BUG CAUGHT ME BBYE

You're sitting on your kitchen counter waiting for Undyne to text you back, wearing Sans' hoodie and holding a cup of jasmine tea in both hands. It's become a consistent habit now. Wearing his hoodie to bed, that is. No way in this life are you going to admit _that_ to him though.

If you've learned anything, you know that revealing embarrassing things to your crush is--

_Holy mother of fuck._

_Did I just_

_Call him my "crush"?!_

You wrinkle your nose in disgust and take another sip of tea. The word _crush_ seems foreign (and slightly stupid) to you. What else would you call this feeling though? Your infatuation? Your attachment? Your idolatry?

You let out an ugly snort of amusement. Heh, _idolatry_. You imagine Sans wearing an oversized velvet red king-like cape.

_"You're... You're my idolatry, your highness."_

At this you burst into full blown laughter, nearly spilling your tea everywhere. Wheezing, you clutch your stomach for support with one arm and set your cup down with the other. But you weren't going to stop at idolatry, no.

_"Your honor."_

_..._

_Oh god, Sans in a judge costume._

Imagining him in a big powdery wig is too much. You throw your head back laughing and--

**Thud.**

Losing your balance, you topple off the counter and hit back-first onto the floor. Dazed by the sudden impact, you briefly stop laughing to catch your breath.

But the thought returns, making you burst into another fit of giggles. You pray that Brandon doesn't walk in on you like this, he'd think you're having a mental breakdown.

[ **BA dun dun dun da da BA dun dun dun da da~** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YTy9v9a7Tmo)

Your text tone goes off (set by Undyne herself). Scrambling off the floor, you snatch your phone off the counter and see the contact flash across the screen:

**[Unread texts from: Bastard-man]**

_Oh._

You unlock your phone and open the thread.

**_[Bastard-man:]_ **

**hey, by the way**

**-you looked cute today.**

**_[Bastard-man:]_ **

**april fools**

**-you look cute everyday**

**-keep it up buttercup, snas out ᕕ(⌐■_■)ᕗ**

You sink back down to the floor, your cheeks tingling in warmth. At this rate, you're not going to be able to keep embarrassing stuff to yourself. He can say a few words like that and he has you fucking melting. Wiping your dopey grin off your face, you type out a response:

**_[Me:]_ **

**You're a dork.**

You press send. You want to text him something else, but you hesitate.

_Aw, what the hell. Why not?_

**_[Me:]_ **

**G'night snas, text me tomorrow?**

You hit enter and immediately regret it. You desperately try and turn off your phone before it sends to abort the text, but it's too late. It's gone. Forever. Fuck. Jeez, why are you getting so worked up?

Your phone beeps:

**_[Bastard-man:]_ **

**of course nerd.**

**-sometimes you ask the stupidest questions, ya know that right?**

You lean back and smile at his question.

_Yeah, I know._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello yes i'm not dead have some fluff *backflips onto a majestic black stallion and gallops back to hell*


	32. consolation #32 - if it makes you feel any better...

_the hell is she doing?!_

I've been ~~stalking~~ closely observing ___________ for some time now, and it feels like she's just going in circles. For example, she took the bus downtown, where I thought she was going to meet Burgerpants, but guess what? She just went to the soup store. Not to buy soup, no. She literally just went in, took a bunch samples and left. Talk about rude. Ever since then, she's been wandering around town, windowshopping and listening to music. She hasn't seen me at all, and I'm debating on just giving up and letting her know that I'm following her around. Not that following her around or anything...

She's been at it for a while now, going store by store, taking samples and not buying anything... Until now, at least.

She went into a QFC a second ago and is not browsing god-knows-what in the I-dunno-what section. She picks up a small, black box and examines it humming a little tune to herself. She doesn't put it back though, unlike all the other products she's examined. Holding the box in one hand, she walks out of the aisle and makes her way over to the dairy section. Now, as many people know, I can be pretty curious. And the fact that she displayed such interest in this product makes me want to investigate. And investigate I did, Watson.

...

Sorry, I've been watching a lot of Sherlock lately. What can I say? Girl's got me hooked.

Now where was I?

Oh, right.

I amble over to the shelf with the mysterious black boxes, picked it up and identified the product. Elementary, Watson.

Okay I'll stop.

I read the label...

_condoms? what on earth are those?_

I flip over the box. My eyes flicker dark. I feel magic coursing through my bones, sending an electrifying sensation up my spine. 

_she can't be serious._

I put down the box, crushing it a little in the process. Now, it's at times like these that I KNOW I cannot be in public. This may come as a surprise to you, but my magic is _slightly_ unstable. Okay, maybe more than slightly. It's so unstable that my family got "help" for me when we broke the barrier. Guess that's the downside of being a weapon of mass destruction, huh?

So yeah, I know I should probably go home. Eat some spaghetti. Solve a crossword puzzle. Hang out with my bird. Feed my pet rock. Do anything _but_ look into this further. What a cute thought, me being a levelheaded, responsible adult. _Of course I'm looking into it further, I'm a fucking bonehead, don'tcha know?_

I'm standing off to the side of the aisle, just out of sight to ___________. She's still in the dairy section, rummaging through a shelf full of whipped cream. She grabs a four-pack of the stuff, actually. What's she doing with so much--

_fucking hell._

Another lewd thought (that's right, another. But really now, who hasn't had dirty thoughts about someone they're attracted to?) flashes through my mind, and it takes all my willpower not to incinerate the looming tower of toilet paper next to me.

She does a double take, clutches her... _stuff_ to her chest and powerwalks to the self-checkout stand. She checks out faster than Speedy Gonzales, bags her items, and makes like Bugs Bunny and hops outta there. Now I'm quoting Looney Toons. I'm really scraping the bottom of the barrel now, aren't I?

_maybe i /am/ the bottom of the barrel._

_..._

_okay, that was too self-deprecating to be funny._

***

So now ___________'s at Muffet's bakery, and I'm starting to question my relationship with her. Is she really attracted to me? Was I reading her wrong? As obnoxious as it sounds, I'm almost never wrong about someone's motives. But on the other hand, I'm lazy, tell amazing (many disagree) jokes, smell like smoke and ketchup (not very attractive smells), and above all... I'm a monster. That alone is a logical enough reason for her not to like me. 

_then why burgerpants?!_

I groan and lean against the brick wall outside Muffet's. God, it's her fault I have no chill. I know I care about her... But maybe... I care too much...? I cross my arms over my chest, close my eyes and try to distract myself from the knot in my nonexistent gut. I don't want to stop caring about her. She makes me feel so good, but when I'm not feeling good I feel like the scum of the earth.

"Ahuhu, thank you for stopping by dearie~ See you in the morning!"

"No problem Muffet. See you then!"

My eyes snap open when I hear the front door jingle open.

_oh shit._

I teleport across the street just in time to see ___________ step out. She's carrying her grocery bag, a bakery uniform, and a cookie in her mouth. She carefully sets her things down on the stairs and whips out her phone, tapping something out quickly. She then sits on a step, pulling her legs to her chest and nibbling on her cookie in one hand and using her phone in the other.

Suddenly, I feel my own phone buzz.

I pull it out, and I see the notification:

**[SMS: my little bird]**  
**Knock knock.**

I feel my tense grin relax at her text. I respond:

**[SMS: me, i think]**  
**who's there?**

**[SMS: my little bird]**  
**I know.**

**[SMS: me, i think]**  
**i know who?**

**[SMS: my little bird]**  
**I know you've been following me around, you lil stalker. Come out.**

***

You're sitting on the front step of Muffet's waiting for Sans to show up so you could give him a verbal beatdown. And show up he does. In a quick flash of static and a burning smell of ozone, there he is. Your heart pangs at his downcast expression, and in that moment you decide to give him a break.

You scoot over and pat the step next to you, in which he stuffs his hands in his pockets and slowly sits down next to you. He avoids your eyes: Does he feel guilty? Embarrassed? Honestly, you think he should feel both. The whole "following you around" thing is a little ridiculous. Doesn't he have a job?

"how long did you know?" He mumbles, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. You take a small bite of your cookie.

"Since the soup store. I saw you outside the window." You shrug, "Ever since then, I've kinda been... Ya know... Sending you on a wild goose chase. Windowshopped. Wandered around, eating samples..."

"...without having any intention of buying anything. rude." Sans snorts, shooting you a look. You give him a small smile and nudge him with your elbow.

"You're one to talk, Mr. Stalker. Anywhosies--"

"wait a minute." Sans interjects, "did you buy those... those..." He fumbles for words, blue dusting his cheekbones. Your small smile turns into a wicked grin at his flusteredness.

"...Condoms to mess with you? Yeah." You finish off your cookie as Sans watches you, flabbergasted. You got him good. Too good. He groans and drags his hands down his face.

"i'm such a moron." He sighs, his look darkening. You feel a little guilty about leading him on like that...

"Hey now. No hard feelings."

"it's... it's not just that. i overreacted to every single thing you did. i thought you were gonna hook up with burgerpants... _don't laugh._ " He snarls at you, your eyes wide with amusement, "okay fine, it's a little funny. but i'm the butt of the joke, and i feel pretty damn pathetic for falling it."

Silence descends upon you two. You didn't realize how much you affected him... The one time Sans calls someone out for messing with him... It must be pretty serious. You watch the trees sway in the wind, thinking of how to respond to him.

...

You have an idea.

"I drew you in my sketchbook." You say softly, wringing your hands a little, "I've also painted you. Multiple times. I think about you a lot. More than I think is healthy."

You glance over at Sans, who is now watching you with intent wonder. You feel your cheeks heat up, but you don't stop there.

"You're not the only one who's pathetic, Sans. My little crush isn't so little anymore." You avert your eyes from his intense gaze. You feel like he's looking right through you.

For a few moments, the only sound around you is the hum of cars on the main street and the wind whistling through the trees. The words you speak are sinking into him now...

"ohoho... babe." He chuckles devilishly, "you have a _crush_ on me? that's embarrassing."

You whip your head around to see him grinning like a maniac. Great, just great. He got what he wanted. You stand up abruptly, irritation flooding your features.

"S-shut up you nerd. I'm going." You hiss, your cheeks burning up from his teasing. You stoop to pick up your things and leave, but he grabs you firmly by the arm.

"hey, if it makes you feel any better..." He pulls you by the waist, making you nearly fall into his lap. Pushing your hair out of the way, he whispers into your ear:

_"i have a crush on you too."_

***

Brandon enters into the apartment lobby, carrying in his hand a takeout bag filled with delicious waffle burgers. He walks to the stairs, his arms swinging by his sides when--

"Brandon."

He inhales sharply, freezing in his tracks. A kaleidoscope of memories hits him like a train, sending a sickening twist in his gut and nearly knocking the wind out of him. He turns around slowly to face the owner of the voice. A tall, dark man dressed in a sharp suit with salt and pepper hair and striking blue eyes stands a few yards from him. Brandon has to fight his instinct to scream at him to get the fuck out of here. He knows that wouldn't end well, after all, the old man _did_ own the apartment complex.

"What are you doing here." He says levelly, clutching the paper bag so hard his knuckles turn white. The man's face conorts into a scowl.

"Come now," He shakes his head, "That's no way to talk to your father."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHY ARE YOU BUYING CLOTHES AT THE SOUP STORE


	33. Alright #33 - Commence the Brain Battle!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Hey guys, if you happen to care which of my stories I release the most, click this link to vote for stuff!](http://lizzyisaway.tumblr.com/post/142882200124/hey-guys-so-i-created-this-poll-thing-for-the)

"so... does this mean we're a thing now?"

You take another lick of your mint chocolate chip ice cream cone, staring at the cracks in the sidewalk as you walk alongside Sans. You have been hanging out with him for the past hour, and it's been a blast. He took you to his hotdog stand for some free lunch, and you took him to Molly Moon's Icecream Parlor for dessert. You both then proceeded to talk (and bitch) about life until you felt like the happiest person alive. Sans would occasionally drop a kick-ass pun which would send you in a fit of laughter. But at these words, you felt all that joy melt away and get replaced with a pit of uncertainty in your chest.

"What... What means we're a thing?" You say slowly, biting into your cone. You send a furtive glance in his direction, but he seems all too chill with your indecisive and slightly unhelpful attitude. He seems to have the idea that he's got you in the palm of his hand. He's so... stupidly confident. You hate how he's right.

"well, when people realize they have mutual romantic feelings for each other..." He says sassily, "it usually means they--"

"W-who said I have romantic feelings for you, smartass?" You flush, taking a big bite of your icecream in attempt to cool your face. Emphasis on "attempt".

Sans looks taken aback.

"you did. like an hour ago." He states matter-of-factly.

"I don't remember anything like that." You say innocently, studying the cracks in the sidewalk once more.

"son of a fuck you're difficult." He throws his head back, groaning at the heavens.

"Hey, leave fuck's son out of this." You mutter, kicking a rock into the sidewalk gutter.

"now who's the smartass?" He chuckles lightly, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. You shrug and say nothing, feeling a tangible heaviness settle between you. You glance at Sans, who seems very nonchalant, but you sense that you're walking a fragile line with him: One wrong word and _boom_ , the shit hits the fan. You find yourself thinking back to the night he confessed his feelings to you, and the fact that he he's so concerned about you and the relationship between him almost... Just almost... Has you convinced that he truly cares for you. It's not that you think he's not telling the truth. Sans is _many_ things, but he's not a liar. You know him better than that. It's just...

"It's just..." You look at your feet as you walk alongside him, "You never really... _Truly_ know what someone wants from you... Even if you've known them for years. I've had-- Seen, people get involved with people who put on a pretty face to gain something- Not that that's what you'd do- How do I put this..."

You pause, taking a moment to gather your hurricane of thoughts and worries. Finally, you speak what's on your mind.

"I don't believe in selfless affection. It's ridiculous how people think they know someone, they think 'oh, yeah, that's a decent person', when in reality that person could have twisted, manipulative intentions and they'd have no clue. In this world, you look out for yourself and do anything necessary to benefit yourself, whether it be survival or pleasure. I can't even comprehend things like, oh how do they they put it, _true love_. God, that sounds corny. I'm sorry. I can't talked about this without sounding like a douche canoe, but I'm so fucking--"

You close your mouth before you could say 'scared'. Fear is something you're not willing to bring into the equation.

"--Unsure." You continue, wringing your hands, "Oh my god, my head is swimming with thoughts. Everything is all muddled. I can't..."

A lump rises in your throat, making you trail off. You push it down. You **won't** get choked up over this. Crying is not an option. Your eyes flit over to Sans, checking his expression. He's staring straight ahead, his permanent grin strained into a grimace. You feel your heart ache, and you hate it more than anything.

Sans is the one who breaks the silence this time.

"do you want it?" He says, still not looking at you.

"Do... I want what?" You say slowly.

"i mean... what if, hypothetically, someone did love you selflessly. what if, hypothetically, that someone was short, wears a blue hoodie, smells like smoke, drinks ketchup... is a little bony..." He glances over at you when you stifle your laugh.

"...would you want them, selflessly, as well?" He finishes.

The wind whistles through the trees, the cool breeze brushing your back. You stop walking, closing your eyes to think. Your heart and mind are constantly at war with each other, and when you heard him say that, they started a battle that for once seemed like neither of them had an upper hand.

Immediately your heart leaped to, _Yes, oh god yes! Sans, you have no idea how much I want that..._

In which your mind says, **I don't know what world you're in right now, but you need to come back to earth you airhead. Snap. Out. Of. It.**

_But why? Why should I? He's given me no reason to not trust him. He cares about me..._

**God, wasn't _I_ the one who went on that whole tangent about having no faith in people? You moron, he's making a fool out of you!**

_Fine! So what if he's tricking me. I'm willing to take that chance._

**Well, I'm not. There's too much at stake.**

_Oh really. Like what? What do we possibly have to lose?_

**...**

**Fuck it.**

You open your eyes to find Sans standing in front of you, his face neutral and unreadable. The wind whips around him, rippling his clothing but otherwise he stands as solid as a rock. You take a deep breath.

"I would, hypothetically, want that. I would." You softly, but clearly. Relief floods his features, and he relaxes his stiff posture. 

"okay. nice. i mean, it's hypothetically nice." He nods, "so, uh, what i want to say to that is i have no idea what the fuck i'm doing, and i may know logic and astrophysics--"

"You know astrophysics?"

"now's not the time, babygirl."

"My deepest apologies. Please proceed."

"--i have no clue how feelings work. but what i do know for sure is that i feel a warm, tingly sensation in me what i talk to you like this, and when i see you i feel violent butterflies inside my imaginary stomach that make me feel like i'm either going to melt or spontaneously combust."

"Should I be worried?"

"not at all. i like the feeling. in a weird way. anyways... i do know for a fact that i care about you. i want the best for you. seeing you hurt hurts me. seeing you laugh makes me happy. seeing your emotions effects me on an existential level. and correct me if i'm wrong, but i sense that these strange anomalies are mutual for us."

He pauses, inviting you to disagree with him. You don't.

"my point is," He continues, "i have no idea what i'm saying, doing, or feeling a hundred and ten percent of the time. when i was in the underground, the present was a hazy blur of stale images and sounds, waves of emotion and numbness. down there, the one and only thing i wished for was something different, something that wasn't routine, i wanted something, anything to happen that i have never experienced before. when we surfaced, i got my wish. i couldn't have been happier."

An image of Brandon holding your shaking form as he tells you he wants nothing of you, just your love.

"it's been years, and i haven't had a single wish since then. mainly because I'm as happy as a clam, and partly because i know the world is not a wish-granting factory. i have everything i need. i never have and never will need anyone, but as of late i've been wanting. i've been wanting so much with such intensity any outsider looking in would mistake it for need, when in reality if you walked away from this forever, right here, right now, i wouldn't hold you back. i may trail behind you, wonder what the actual fuck happened, and fall apart, but i would find some way to piece myself back together."

"Sans..." You choke out, tears threatening to fall from your eyes. You imagine the policeman from Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs vacuum in his tears and you manage to suck it up without laughing.

"i'll never need you ___________. you have nothing i want to take from you, emotionally and physically. but damn, i want you so fucking bad it hurts. i want to make you laugh, i want to see you happy. so please, _please_ let me want you. you're my first wish of the surface."

There's no stopping the waterworks now. Silent tears rolled down you cheeks as you stood on that cracked sidewalk in the shady outskirts of the city. This is all too poetic. Something that only happens in paperback novels and shitty fanfictions. But here you are: standing in front of your favorite skeleton who was saying all the right things and pushing all the right buttons. You don't even care that the slight possibility that he's lying exists. You're willing to take that chance. You decide to tell him something equally meaningful, something that would make him feel the same relief you are.

"You're a nerd." You whisper, drying your face with your sleeve, "Y-yeah, I want to be with you, and God I hate crying."

"thanks." Sans says softly, seeming very proud of himself, "why do you hate crying though? it's not too bad."

"It's messy, unproductive, and makes my face wet." You sniff, and Sans raises an eyebrow at you.

"since when are you clean and productive?"

"Touché." You laugh weakly. A few seconds pass before Sans speaks again.

"would it be totally inappropriate if i kissed you after i just made you cry or..."

"Yes." Is your immediate response. His shoulders slump sadly, making your heart melt. You hesitate a little before you lean over quickly, planting a kiss on the corner of his mouth. The bone is warm and smooth against your lips, hard but not necessarily rough. You decide you like the sensation as you pull away and look at Sans. The reaction was delayed. He stood stock still for a moment, processing what just happened. Then a deep blue flooded his cheekbones as he gently touches the place you kissed him with his hand.

"you just said that it was ridiculous..." He mutters, pure joy shining in his eyes.

"I was never known for my rationality." You shrug, a little red in the face as well.

Sans grins wider than this, and nods his head in agreement.

"that was great. i loved it actually." He comments, looking at you mischievously, "may i take you home babygirl?

"S-sure." You avert your gaze to the sidewalk once more and continue walking to your bus stop with Sans.

"by the way, how did you hold out from crying for so long? if you said that shit to me i would've broke down."

"Hah! Oh god, you're not going to be pleased that I was thinking of this but, have you seen Cloudy With a Chance Of Meatballs?"


	34. Rule #34 - Keep the Light On.

You and Sans lay against the trunk of a massive oak tree at a park near your school's campus, eating Nicecream and people watching. Sans came up with this game where you look at passers-by and guess their life stories and so, of course, you've been playing for about an hour.

"See him?" You point to a leather-clad greaser-style freshman, "He grew up in a middle class family with two older sisters. Being the youngest, he was often bullied by his siblings and always felt entitled to only the best treatment because of his, uh, hardships. And his pro-monster ideals were always looked down upon by his friends and family, so _that_ doesn't help. But, once you get through the layers of victimization, he's actually a sweetheart who just wants to work for the monster king."

"i think you really nailed that one." Sans nods, still eyeing the greaser, "heh. did you know i used to work for Asgore?"

You look at him incredulously, completely shocked by the thought of him working for any form of government.

"I didn't know that." You respond, still staring at him as you munch on your Nicecream. He nods, finishing off his and studying the popsicle stick.

"yup. i was also a scientist once." He skillfully twirls the stick between his fingers, "hence the astrophysic books lying around the house."

"Wow." Your eyes widen in awe. His cheekbones tint a little blue at your admiration of his skill sets. It's kinda satisfying to see him bashful over it, actually.

"You know, I hear all these stories about you. From Papyrus, Undyne, Frisk... The whole squad. Like, you work at a hotdog stand, you've worked for Asgore, you've done odd jobs for Grillby, you're a scientist." You grin, holding back a laugh, "It's like you've lived a hundred years."

Sans froze, his face void of any expression. Your smile falters. Did you say something wrong?

"Sans..." you said carefully, not wanting to break the atmosphere.

Silence.

"Sans? Anybody there?" You laugh weakly, waving your hand in front of him in attempt to get his attention.

He blinks at your movement, then shivers like he just woke up from a dream. 

"Where were you?" You ask, tilting your head into his field of vision. He doesn't miss a beat when he says;

"grillby's. he has the best burgers, ya know?" He grins his usual cartoonish smile. You feel the anxiety in your chest relax. Just like that, the sinister feeling left as quickly as it came.

"Yeah, I guess..." you say slowly, not convinced he's telling the absolute truth.

"what does your stick say?"

You pause for a moment before saying, "What? What does that mean?"

"your popsicle stick." He clarifies.

"Oh, uh, I dunno..." You hold the stick out for Sans to see, "Are these like those joke pops?"

"nah, you're close though." He shows you his popsicle stick, which says **'if you were a sharpie, you'd be extra fine!'**.

"Huh, pickup lines." You muse, taking another bite.

"I guess you could say they're..." you shoot him a glance, Nicecream dangling from your mouth, "Pickup Sticks~?"

Sans stares at you, dumbstruck, his eyes widening slightly. For a moment you swear you could see stars in his eyes. And so you blurt out,

"That was a mistake."

"if it was, it was an awesome mistake."

"The worst mistake."

"the best mistake."

"I hate you."

"i love you."

You've scooted towards each other as you bantered, eventually face to face. You open your mouth to say something, but quickly shut it. How the fuck are you supposed to respond to that...? As if reading your mind, he says,

"i already said this, but you know you don't have to say it back, right?"

You look away.

"Yeah, I guess I know that." You say, studying the oak branches above, "But it doesn't feel right. I kinda... Want to say something."

You feel your cheeks heating up and you curse yourself internally. The tense silence is enough to make you cave. Sans sees this opportunity, and damn does he take it.

"well..." he edges towards you, all the while keeping steady eye contact, "if ya wanna mention something, now's your chance."

You refuse to be the first to break the gaze between you two, but the mischievous glint in his eyes is difficult to keep looking at.

"Uh--" you stammer stupidly, as your entire though process is focusing on calming your racing heartbeat, "I don't-- Well-- I kinda--"

"i notice you like speaking in fragmented sentences." He smirks, putting a hand to your cheek and pulling you closer, "and holy shit, you're burning up! do ya have a fever?"

"Fuck you, nerd." You hiss as you your best to grimace instead of giving him the satisfaction of seeing you smile like a dope.

"we can do that later. but for now," His eyes lid ever so slightly, "it's your turn to be flustered. what's on your mind?"

"Nothing." You deny, "Not anymore at least."

"why do i not believe you?"

"Because that's your choice."

"or maybe you aren't telling truth."

"Or _maybe--_ "

He cuts you off, shifting his hand so he's holding both side of your face.

_He's going to kiss me. Oh shit he's going to kiss me._

You close your eyes, expecting your mouth to collide with his at any moment... When suddenly he squeezes your cheeks.

Hard.

"Mmph." You squeal, swatting at his hand in vain. His grip, as you remember very well, is like iron.

"huh. you'd make a pretty decent fish." He muses, "look at those cheeks."

"Ihf you don'tch shtop, I wihll end you." You enunciate the best you can, as your puffed cheeks muffles your voice. He doesn't stop though.

"say it sweetheart. don't be shy, there are no secrets between us." He purrs.

_This fucking sadist._

"I don'tch haf anyfing chu say." You struggle, and his grip on you tightens. You break under his grip.

"I don'tch not lufve you! I don't not lufve you!" You squeak out, and he let's go of you immediately.

"what was that?" He asks, grinning like a maniac. you rub your face irritatedly.

"I said," you mumble, "I don't... _Not_ love you."

"you... don't... _not_... love me." He says mirthfully, "that's frickin weak."

"Yeah? Well, I don't not love you! Take it or leave it." You scoff, elbowing his arm as hard as you could.

"hey, hey i'll take it!" He snorts, elbowing you back, "and was that supposed to hurt? you have the strength of a butterfly. kinda worries me, actually."

"Oh my god... You're trying to pick _another_ fight with me?"

***

"BROTHER. DID YOU POP THE POPCORN?"

"nope."

"WHAT?! YOU KNOW THAT QUEEN TORIEL, FRISK, ASRIEL, UNDYNE AND ALPHYS WILL BE HERE ANY MINUTE, DON'T YOU?"

"yup."

"WHY HAVEN'T YOU MADE THE POPCORN THEN??"

"it's ___________'s fault. she's being distracting."

"I cannot believe you right now."

"you gonna deny it, sweetheart?"

"Don't worry Papyrus, I'll make the popcorn. Sans can sit his lazy bone butt on the couch."

"THANK YOU SO MUCH ___________. AT LEAST _SOMEONE_ IS PRODUCTIVE."

"i'll help ___________. she probably needs it."

"Oh, how considerate of you."

"i know. and you're welcome."

"Remind me, why do I don't not love you again?"

"because i am a man of few words, but when i do say words they're skeleton puns."

"Nice to know I have such high standards."

"oh, you flatterer you. but i'm not the only one to be put on a pedestal. you're bone-ified girlfriend material."

"That was awful."

"you're smiling though. are your cheeks red?"

"Shhhhh. Just, shhh."

***

The doorbell rings as you attempt to pour butter onto the warm popcorn. Keyword being 'attempt'. Sans keeps harassing you from behind, grabbing your waist and micromanaging your every movement.

"you're gonna have to mix the popcorn. you missed too many spots." He says next to your ear, his breath tickling your neck and making you jump.

"Now _who's_ fault is that?" You snap back at him. He shrugs nonchalantly.

"certainly not mine. i think you might just have poor motor skills." He winks, "i can teach you a thing or two about moving if you want."

"How can you diss me _and_ make a sexual innuendo at the same time?" You say, too impressed to be embarrassed, "Is this another one of your secret skills?"

"i've lived a hundred years, darling."

"Disgusting. Take your PDA somewhere else, you freaks." You hear a very familiar voice spit behind you. Sans let's go of your waist as you whirl around to see little 'ol Frisk and their demonic plant. Frisk looks at you apologetically, and you mouth 'it's fine' to reassure them that Asriel's constant jabbing doesn't bother you. Speaking of which...

"So, you dating now or what?" Asriel jabs, looking between you and Sans.

"yup." Sans says immediately. He snakes his arm around your shoulders and pulls you towards him before you can react. You low-key nudge him with your elbow, but he doesn't get let go.

Asriel's smug demeanor wilts away quickly, his sneer replaced with a disappointed scowl. Before you can ask questions, his roots dig up a crumpled five dollar bill out from the dirt of his pot. Frisk puts out their hand, and Asriel reluctantly gives them the cash. 

_Oh._

"you guys made a bet on whether or not she would turn me down?" Sans asks incredulously.

"Not exactly." Asriel rolls his eyes, "I just thought you'd be too much of a pus--"

"Yeah. We did." Frisk interjects quickly, "By the way, good going uncle Sans."

"thanks kid. you sneaky little gambler." Sans chuckles, leaning forward to ruffle their hair. They giggle and Asriel hits his hand away with a huff.

"Look, we're just here to tell you that everybody is waiting in the living room for the damn popcorn." He hisses, and Frisk flicks the back of his head.

" _...no,_ we're here to tell you that everyone is wait for _you_. That's all." They smile.

"Okee dokee. We'll be right in there with the popcorn." You emphasize the last sentence for the flower's sake. Asriel scoffs one last time before Frisk happily bounds over to the livingroom. When you're both alone, Sans speaks up.

"oh my god, did you just say 'okee dokee'? you're so cute." He giggles like a Japanese schoolgirl. Its takes all your willpower to not walk to the nearest wall and slam your head against it repeatedly.

"What is up with you?" You weasel your way out of your grip so you could face him. Sans, of course, feigns innocence.

"whaddya mean?" He grins.

"You're teasing me like like it's the end of the world." You roll your eyes, a faint smile tugging at your lips.

"well, you never know, it could be ending."

"Sans, please."

*** (Sans POV) ***

**"--first, the ground starts shaking. Then it breaks open, everything falls apart, _fire, lava,_ I don't mean to be too dramatic but AHHH! AAAAHG!"**

Undyne roars in laughter at Guy's dramatic description of the apocalypse, while Alphys and the rest of the crew giggle. Heh, Undyne.

I even feel ___________ shaking with laughter against my chest. I can't help but sigh a little at the feeling, and I run my hand up and down her arm. She sinks into my touch.

Meanwhile, Guy is giving Eep a conch shell horn, telling her that when the End comes to give him a call.

**it'll come when you least expect it.**

Eep runs back to her family, the Croods, to tell them of her adventures that night. However, they freak out at her discoveries. They destroy the shell, and her dad grounds her until she's as old as her grandmother.

I squeeze ___________, pulling her so close to me she's practically in my lap. She looks up at me questioningly, her wide eyes reflecting the light of the TV. I simply wink at her. She smiles and turns her attention back to the movie.

I feel spacey. Like I'm barely conscious.

I don't know for sure if it will end.

Frisk says they haven't found any Saves once we broke the barrier. It should be fine.

I've gone to therapy for this shit for so long. I'm supposed to be over it, but I any consolation I've ever gotten is just short-term relief. Like someone turned on a light just long enough for me to see the stability I'll never have, so that wreck me more than if I had never seen it in the first place.

I close my eyes.

_alright sans. keep it together. take it one day at a time. remember what's true right now. you got this. beast mode. beast mode. beast mo--_

"Stay with us Sans, this is a good part." ___________ whispers, holding onto my torso a little tighter than usual.

"i'm here, i'm awake." I nod, looking back to the TV screen. The End has started, the earth is shattering beneath Eep's feet, rocks and debris is flying everywhere...

_getting a little dramatic now, aren'tcha sans?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sans knows that as soon as things are looking up, things will probably go to shit.
> 
> Give him a hug ❤
> 
> [*rereads a few of my old chapters because I forgot how to write*](http://cd8ba0b44a15c10065fd-24461f391e20b7336331d5789078af53.r23.cf1.rackcdn.com/mfp-en.vanillaforums.com/editor/wt/1reosvxtjbqb.gif)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Froth and Bubble](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6158674) by [Real Life Inspires (Teddy_Feathers)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teddy_Feathers/pseuds/Real%20Life%20Inspires)




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